But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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Hunger

The lights are dim. She opens the refrigerator door. A hand quickly seizes the turkey lunchmeat. She grabs a slice and pulls it apart, stuffing it into her dry mouth. She grabs another before this one is chewed and rolls it up. She doesn't even bother to swallow before stuffing it into her mouth. She sits on the floor in pure ecstasy. The salty, indescribably wonderful taste bursts into an eruption of flavor in her mouth. She is not here. She is gone. She eats faster. She does not even bother to chew. The only thing that matters is that she eats this. More and more...
Suddenly she is aware of what she is doing. Panicked, she shoves the package back into the fridge. "What in the hell are you doing?! You can't eat that! You already ate today." Tears are ready to flood her eyes. But she won't cry over her own weaknesses. Her stomach screams in protest. She runs to the bathroom. Diarrhea. Again.
"Selfish bitch. That�s what you get."
She ate almost 500 calories today. And she isn't that sick. So she probably has giardia. That�s what the doctors say. But if she was that sick they would have done something more. She is fine. Better than fine. In fact, tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow she won�t eat. Tomorrow�
God, what am I doing?

11:28 PM - Thursday, May. 05, 2005
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dying - living