

obliviousmy mother, on the phone preaching about intervention for our friend's sister's inferred drug use. oblivious, little does she know i've now been stuffing myself silly waiting for her to leave so i can pour the contents of twenty stomachs out. i don't think she thinks this is real, i don't think she knows what's going on. i don't believe vomiting blood and bile and neglecting to stop forcing fingers down my throat, still convinced there's food hidden somewhere, tears streaming down my face, is normal. i don't believe this is nothing becuase it's everything. how ironic she's looking at an example of me in a larger scale, probably thinking to heroblivious


Freedomfreedom. we'd be lying if we said there is such a thing. no matter where you are, something is binding you. no one is free. whether you're in the United States, China or Afghanistan. Confines of our minds, confines of the government, confines of life. no one is free until death.Freedom


pain.The past week i've been gorging. uncontrolable, messy, embarrassing, disgusting. I take time to cook meals that i know i'm going to throw up. While one meal is cooking, i'll prepare another one, another one until the original is made. I don't care about taste. i jsut eat. fuck napkis, fuck utensils. eat. it's a blurr. food is all over me, it's disgusting but i somehow don't care. stuff myself faster, faster. my mind doesn't register anything. i'm finished with multiple meals within ten minutes. chugging gallons of liquid to ease up the food so i can vomit easier. pain. awful stretching of my stomach. run to the bathroom. rince and repeat untipain.


Lindsaywe sat in Quincy market bundled in our double-breasted coats and five scarves each. this was just the beginning, little did we both know. we were young and innocent until this tainted us. until i tainted her. into the restaurant we strolled. i felt heavy and obese. boney waitress asks me what i'm ordering. i start bawling. i say water, water water only please. consolement. she was innocent and pure until i influenced her. secret turmoil, helping eachother destroy ourselves. i enabled her. "amber, how do you purge so efefctively?" i didn't have to show her, but i did. i was eleven. the years washed through us in a drunken blur, a fight for powLindsay


NothingnessWhat is this world? It is only a passing dream.Nothingness
What is suffering? It is only a passing illusion.
What is attachment? It is the source of our dreams, And the cause of our illusions.
I blew out the candle That once burned in my mind, And then darkness enveloped All of my hurtful thoughts.
Tell me, then, What is darkness? It is nothing.
What are we made up of? We are made up of our thoughts.
I am nothingness. I am bliss.
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