But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.
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Dreaming Nightmares
So many of us were at a party. I was back in San Fransisco, walking up and down the old street I used to live on with quite a few of my friends from the past, and some from now. Bailey and Joseph were there too, and Bailey was snorting coke in the kitchen. Joseph began to cry, and my aunt appeared. She was thirty years younger, my age, and gorgeous. The house was huge. There were tons of video games that you could actually participate in, and we were all having a blast.
A loud, persistent knock woke me up. "No, no I want to sleep..." I heard Joseph yelling, "Gwen?!" I stumbled out of bed, and there they were. Joseph and Bailey, waking me from my dream, forcing me back to reality.
We sat around the living room, debating politics and human embryonic stem-cell research. Then they left, after a few hours had passed.
The whole time I was worried about a garbage bag I had thrown up in, left in my room this morning. After they left I took it out, and they were standing there.
"If only you knew," I thought. I came back in, ate some cake mix, granola bars, a hot pocket, and two bowls of cereal.
Binge...
Purge...
Back to sleep...
I found myself in a dark town. My neighbor raped me, and then tried to murder me. I tried to get someone to help me, but no one would, no one could... Joseph and Bailey were there again. We found out on the news that the president was trying to rid the US of all people with medical illnesses, especially diabetes. We had to leave. I tried to pack, but I couldn't find the soda. Finally I did, buried under a pile of clothes. We all hopped into Joseph's car and fled to Mexico. When we arrived the boarder was packed with US citizens trying to get into Mexico. The boarder patrol was only agreeing to take healthy young people. He summoned the three of us over. "No meter!" he shouted at me. I looked at my glucometer in my hand. To survive I had to leave it. But I couldn't survive without it.
Then my roommate came in the front door, which startled me awake. She apologized, but I was glad.
More cake mix, more hot pockets, more granola bars...
Binge, purge, no insulin...
And here I am.
10:25 PM - Friday, Apr. 01, 2005
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dying - living
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