But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Secrets Some guy on the campus I was looking at today told my aunt that I was very beautiful. I don't know why, or what he saw, and for a few minutes it boosted my self-esteem. But then I realized he just said that to make someone feel okay that day. I am not beautiful. Far from it. I am so ugly, rotten on the inside, that it flows on to my outer skin and veils any sparkle that I once had. Another Diet Soda, a 24-pack gone. Urine reeking of glucose. A tongue coated in syrup. A body gorged on sweets. A heart working too hard to pump the thick, sugar filled blood though the body. I am drained. But I must go on. Because they do not understand. They expect me to be who I used to be, the star full of light, energy, the girl who promised so much. They do not realize I am no longer that person, that I no longer know myself. So I put up my hair, brush away signs of illness with a makeup stick, swipe on a smile, put on new clothes... And I am ready. But I am not. I want to head back to bed, to sleep forever. But I have a secret promise to them. That I will be what they want me to be. So I do what they expect. Let me die inside, for I am not me, and I do not know who I am. So why not please them? The nights are filled with binges, midnight trips to the toilet to vomit, to urinate out all the glucose, to carry out my illness in secret. By day I am what they want. Someday I hope to be me, the me I want to be, but until then I will hang between the lines of this, slowly dying, faking life, and maybe if I fake it enough it will come true. I wish I could start all over again.... 2:47 p.m. - 2004-04-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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