Weightless Perfection

4-11-09

So this is going to be my thinspo journal. Thinspiration. My inspiration to be perfect.

Control. Control is the key. Bones. Bones showing mean perfection. The lower the number is the closer to being perfect you are. 60 pounds is perfection. Only 24 more to go. I hate the fact I do this but I love it all the same. This is the only way I know to have control. I want to disappear. I don't want to be popular or have all the guys want me. I want to leave a room and not be noticed. To be so thin I can fade away into the walls. I want to be the thinest person I can even if that means I have to die. It won't matter to be as long as I can fit into a size 0 funeral dress. I hope they pick a blue or purple on if I do. I don't wish this for anyone. The torture is too much for anyone. I weigh myself about 15 times a day, count calories, and purge. No one should feel this way.

[[later]]
80 is a normal weight. o_0. No. I won't be a normal weight. All this work would be for fucking nothing. Dammit! Why can't I stop eating? I'm a fucking cow. That's what I am. A lazy good for nothing fat ass cow.
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If you are going to comment this saying it's disgusting or wrong or anything like that don't. I know this is not a matter to joke about and I don't intend to make it one. I am just trying to get it all out of my system because I'm about to relapse again and I don't want to again.