Struggle with myself.
This is so difficult. This need to be sick, and this desire for health and vitality.
I don’t understand anything I’m feeling or anything that I do.
I just want to know myself.
When did that become too much to ask for?
I just ate a bowl of cereal, and now I’m wondering how to get my father out of my room so I can vomit it up before it’s too late.
I cannot digest this. This cannot sit inside of me. It simply cannot.
Why did I eat it in the first place? What was I trying to prove?
