But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.
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Deserved
The tears are streaming down my face as I type this. I am losing my mind. I have become such a cruel person. I am no longer as sweet as I used to be. I say mean things. I care what happens to this body of mine.
And I hate myself for it. I want to die. I am apathetic. The drawer with pills is only ten steps away from me, perhaphs seven. I eat the rest of the food I have, the rest of the food for the rest of the month. It wouldn't matter if I was going home like I was supposed to. But my money is gone. I can't go anywhere. I can't buy anything. So I eat the last 2,000 calories in the house, making a total of 3,000 for the day. I plan on taking my Stratera, Topamax, and and the Tylenol in the cabinet. But then a thought crosses my mind...
I won't die. I never fucking die... I am stuck on this earth, to vasillate between extremes, for what seems to be an eternity. I loathe it. I want an end. I want nothing. And when I die, I don't care what they do. I don't care if they have a funeral or if they don't, if they bury me, or if they cremate me. How they split up my life insurance... Because I will be gone, and in no way will it affect me. Completely. Like coming, like going, "tabula rasa." But for their sake, I hope that they do whatever is cheapest and the least burdensome.
I feel so cruel lately. So selfish. I am so sorry for any pain I have caused any of you here. I am sorry. I will be a better person. I will be kinder. I will not be cruel. I will quit caring about myself. I will only give to others. I am not taking my insulin tonight. It is my punishment to myself. I really hope to make this body expire before Christmas. That would be the best gift of all. But like time, it keeps moving, keeps thriving, and my punishment is that I slowly break down, and I keep going.
It
Is
Deserved
12:03 AM - Sunday, Dec. 19, 2004
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dying - living
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