But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Acid Rain Fuck bulimia. No more bulimia. I can't take it anymore. I had a great evening. I went out to eat with my friend S*. She always cheers me up. I came home. "I will not purge, I will not purge, I will not purge..." I went to sleep. I wake up and check my e-mail. Five hours later no distraction will work. The acid keeps coming up, burning my throat, sending a nasty taste in my mouth, begging me to puke. I give in. I throw on an old pair of sandals, grab a towel, and head out to the backyard. It is too dark to see three feet in front of me. I bend over behind the pool and jam my hand down my throat. The human fountain erupts. I have never tasted vomit so putrid, so stale, so disgusting. Acid rain. I cannot breath. It feels as if someone is burning a hole up my throat. After a few heaves I stop. I realize that I can barely breathe. Everything feels like it is on fire. I spit. Blood? Who cares. I try to talk. My words sound like those of an eighty year old dying woman who has smoked all her life. Draw a breath. Draw a real breath. Impossible. Bulimia, how I loathe thee. 1:14 a.m. - 2003-05-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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