plastic

 06/22/25

“Don’t worry if people think you’re crazy. You are crazy. You have that kind of intoxicating insanity that lets other people dream outside of the lines and become who they’re destined to be

Note to self. You are not as important as plastic. People wouldn't recycle you. This is how you will see it. And she will see it as you are jealous and sabotaging. Fortunately, you will break up, part, go your own ways and you'll miss her almost as much as you miss food.

But thankfully, not quite.

And this is how I'm sure an anorexic survives in hell. Nothing in the world is quite as important as food. You can't coast for a long time on that road too long.

Eventually, she started acting like she didn't even want to see me or be seen with me. Even if we just went to play pool at Pitchers, I started really questioning what that really was all about...

I was never invited out again to hang out with her friends anymore. I just really had no understanding. These weird feelings triggered me, like I was back living at home. It made me want to be that strange emo gothic girl again. I wanted to look scary, like a deranged heroin addict or like Amy Lee from evanescence. I wanted to wear bracelets up to my elbows, dark eyeliner under my eyes, I wanted to dye my hair the darkest black wear combat boots and jankos. Everything would match my Wicca black attitude. Satan worshiper. I needed the weird t-shirt bought at Mr. Rags and the roll on body glitter that smelled like play-doh, Weird suicidal music and be incredibly thin.

In reality, I was hurting. She was hurting me.

I didn't want to play a disease anymore. I was a disease. I was going to be damn good at it too. I was going to do it so I just actually might feel something that is real.