lying on my back

these scars have begun to unravel again.

maybe it's time. I feel that all too familiar tug of transition looming on the horizon. It attracts and repels. Excites and scares.
it scares less than it used to. guess I could attribute it to age or wisdom(something along those lines) but it isn't.
It's an awareness. An awareness that nothing is constant. I could make a decision at this point and it may or may not produce results which please me. But at any point I can change it. I can do or choose to do things differently. And it's okay.
I guess I'm no longer afraid of making the wrong decisions. There are none. Just choices and their reverberations.

goodbye old self

my daily bread

i wasn't even hungry to begin with.

came home to find chicken soup.
had a piece of chicken and some soup.

complemented aforementioned chicken soup with some steamed rice. 
complemented aforementioned steamed rice with some squid sambal.

had another piece of chicken since the first piece was kinda small-ish.(and tasted good)

looked into the oven and found fresh-baked cheese scones.
inhaled said cheese scone.

washed everything done with dessert; red velvet cupcake with black cherry frosting.
and a toblerone chocolate bar but who's counting at this point?

i wasn't even hungry to begin with.


#selfloathe

“It is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to
use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

coffee and books

that's pretty much all i need for the rest of the year.














guess it won't hurt to throw in a naked boy or 2...
 

(:

new year, same me

measuring my waistline always leads me to erratic diets. Either way i'll be driven to some vegan-slash-nothing-but-water diet.


if it's a big number(which is more commonly the case), i'd fret and cease eating. Then feel so deprived and binge at weird hours when my resolve runs out.


if it's a small number(like today), i'd gloat and bask in the glory of being an xs then overcompensate by eating 3 times my normal portion and eventually feel an immense amount of guilt. i'd start feeling antsy that my 23cm waist could and would possibly end up expanding and monitor every morsel that comes into contact with my mouth and self-judge silently. 

vicious cycle. on and on and on. fuck you bikini bridge. fuck you thigh gap.


"comme un poisson dans l'eau"

It’s getting to the edge of what could be

I can’t fight it off, I can’t fight it off.....







goodbye.