I feel like i could drift away and never have to think of breath agen. I could dance for hours, and im going to do, im doing anouthe A level this year... in dance. Is it bad that one of the main reasons im doing it is because i feel ill everytime i see myself naked.

Esther told me about how she thought i was to thin when we were in school. "you look so much better now" no thankyou, take it back.

it makes me sick.

and the photographer did tell me to lose 25-30 lbs.

maybe if i was to cut of my legs, or my arms.

didnt eat today

hurt me befor i hurt myself.

Cant eat.
Wont eat.
help

i Cant stop.

Thinking and thinking, pictuers in my head, words, sounds, pictuers tick tick ticking over in my mined.
When i close my eyes and go to sleep, everytime i look at pictuers everytime i hear a song.

Its hard to get out of bed when you have no will.
Eating seems a chore and breathing starts to get harder.

Hes the most perfect thing.
But sometimes...not the right thing.
Time, place, feeling, thought, picture...tick tick tick.

"Most likeley to become an actoress.
Not if i cant get out of bed.
Get out of the house.
I cant do it
by
my
self...

and i wish i was her, and i wish i was him, here, there anywere but this bed, this crack... this "town".

And "wish you were here"someone was here.
Someone who dosent fuzz into the blur of day and afternoon morning night...Not him though, he is perfect and here...sometimes....but its not his fault, hes listning to the plans that will kill our world.

Superheros...


"Just a bump"
"just a scratch"
"I was too busy..."
I would say...
"i slipped"
"im clumbsy"
"im not very balenced"

Biteing my fingers as a bubble of blood suddentley slips through my flesh and it now sitting very neatley on my skin. it skips up my arm and nessels its self into the cracks of my elbow.

"You must stop doing that"

I cant stand the nights because i have nobody to talk to.
And so i think more.
And i dont want to talk to him, because he worrys, and crys, and there really is no need!
But i do want to talk to him, The other him, because he handles things diffrentley than anyone i have ever spoken to.But i cant, because things get messed up, because He; and this is the first he, makes thing messy because...because...because...there really is no corse for concern.

Cross my heart and hope to...

So i had a bad panick attack yestorday.Nothing even happend to set it off... as normal.
I was lieing on simons bed talking about going to get dinner or somthing, and i felt my mouth filling with blood.
I stood up and looked out the window.and then ran to the bathroom and started spitting what i thought was blood into the sink.
My mouth felt as though it was just filling with warm blood, and i kept spitting it into the skin and retching and spitting.
And then i couldent breath and my hands were going numb and i was trying to spit but i couldent see clearly because my eyes were fludding with tears. I felt like i was drowing in blood. I though i was dieing.
simon calmed me down and gave me a drink of water.
He asked "is that better?"
I said "yes"
but i could still taste blood.

I went to school tonight, for a gig, it was four pounds!

and it rained (it was outside).

It was really odd being there, and seeing people i havent seen all year, being somewere i havent been all year, when i ust to spend every day with them...there.

i hung out with helly flann (bottom right) and becky (bottom left) i havent seen becky all year, we have the same coloure hair now =/

Becky lost her ver-gin-aunty in a car when she was parra-let-ic, shes not proud.

i miss them?