portal, companion cube

Crying, pleading, begging, don't do it, please, i beg you, don't, i'm sorry, i'm SORRY

Let's start with a confession, from two weeks ago.

I confessed to my best friend, let's call her Ella, two weeks ago, after a class we took together on a Sunday, at the bottom of empty stairs at the mall, how I feel, what I eat, and all those unspoken thoughts that I would never have thought to reveal. She understood, and I loved her for understanding. She promised not to tell, and I loved her most for that. So I hugged her, and with good feelings we went on our way.

I suppose you know what I confessed to her, from all these insinuations and rants and screaming on this blog. Not like anyone ever reads it, but still.

I partially have an eating disorder. I am on the borderline between unhealthy dieting and anorexia. I don't even think I am good at being anorexic.

The thing I am most ashamed of is that my mother prepares breakfast for me to eat on the bus everyday. I throw it away almost as soon as I get to school. Wrapping it in paper towels and carefully placing it in the bin.

I skip lunch. I have no friends to eat it with, so nobody misses me anyways.

When I get home, I eat as little as possible. I try as hard as I can to remain vegetarian. I will avoid starchy foods such as pasta, rice and bread.

I desperately try to keep under 500 calories a day. I tried a "punishment" system for two days, but recently I've just become too tired at night so I just skip my exercises and go to sleep.

Anyway, moving on: I also have another friend. Let's call her... Nadia. She is dreadfully skinny and tall, and does not eat much. I got so angry at her yesterday because:

1) My friend Ella wrote about me and that confession in an electronic diary on her computer.

2) Last year Nadia and I were both guilty of stealing that diary several times to read. But now, I ask for it nicely, but Nadia still steals.

3) Nadia was once again guilty of stealing it within the past week. She saw the entry about me and tried to confront me about it.

4) Unlike Ella, she was concerned and started talking about "this is a serious problem" and how she wanted to tell somebody.

5) I started to cry. I think that shocked her, because I never cry. But she doesn't know that I cry at a drop of a hat recently. Most of the time I don't even wait for the damn hat.

6) What makes me the angriest is how she and her new friends are treating Ella. I am becoming more and more Ella-like, being unreactive, quiet and studious. So Nadia and her three new gossipy, excitable friends sit on the couch on one side of the table, and me and Ella sit on the other. They gossiped and giggled and screamed and left us out. "We don't leave her out intentionally, she just doesn't make any effort to join us." I understand why now. It's simply too hard, too tiring to try to become like them.

7) No, what makes me the ANGRIEST is that Nadia knew about my problem, and yet what did she eat for dinner? What did they all eat for dinner? She had a mango smoothie and a lemon cheesecake. That is ALL. In front of me. Doesn't she know how triggering that is? I can't believe it.

So now I'm stuck. I don't know what to do but cry, and I want to go back to sleep but then my mom will know something is wrong and confront me about it. I can't tell her about any of this. I can't tell anyone about this, goddammit.

I think I kinda want to die right now.
portal, companion cube


portal, companion cube

hey peeps

I'm back, and hating the world, the people of this school more than ever.


Okay I discriminated against them before, but only because they were in this school and were "XXX people" (XXX being the initials of this school) but then I accepted them and tried to be nice, tried to fit in (ish), but now I once again conclude:

I hate the whole fucking lot of them.

They piss me off.

They're all so fucking fake, and there are:

1) Fat sluts
2) Sluts in general
3) Short wannabes
4) Girls with shaggy hair and all they wear is fucking hoodies and jeans, and have annoying voices
5) People who do nothing but stare at their computers
6) Gamers, gamers everywhere

FUCK I hate this fucking place, coming to a fucking place to do fucking work that is not fucking interesting that I never want to do again, seeing people I DON'T LIKE and have to fucking TOLERATE every single FUCKING day, God it gets me so fucking PISSED OFF.

So I realized. I don't care what they think. Who the fuck cares what I'm wearing? How I behave? I'll do whatever and wear whatever the fuck I want. I don't care if people think I'm some old hobo chick with a brown sweater with huge sleeves, slouching pants that are about to fall off me, a dusty-pink scarf, and carrying around a huge white and pink marshmallow coat.

Okay, even I think I look a little ridiculous, but I don't care. I'm trying not to care. Nobody's looking anyway. They all kinda... avoid... my gaze. The people I have to deal with, are teachers.

Yup, teachers, and they don't give a shit what I wear.



My "music" should say:

listening to:: annoying people play fucking cod, wow so fucking INTERESTING and BENEFICIAL to your fucking life. of course the fat slut is just sitting there with her graceful fingers on her star-spangled black laptop, letting out graceful slight laugh/giggles at the conversation around her doing whatever is trendy and cool right now, and the short wannabe with flip-flops and fucking capris is watching them play cod, "i wonder what would happen if i played" and the boys stare at her and laugh, and she laughs with them, and so she is accepted, but just barely. god isn't this so fucking INTERESTING? don't they lead such MEANINGFUL lives? jesus.
portal, companion cube

dot dot dotty dot

It's been a week and a day since I last posted.

I'm sorry.

Not like anybody's reading this, but honestly? I have nothing to say.

I'm not very interesting, am I?


So since last week, I have been:

- tired
- sleepy
- lethargic
- surprised at faded, gaunt-looking shadows on the sides of my face
- grudgingly getting homework "out of the way"
- practicing drumming
- practicing ballet
- stretching (very grudgingly now)
- willing for sleep at the most inconvenient times
- having my heart rate monitor work in PE, finally
- attempting to eat less than 500 everyday
- succeeding, most of the time
- realizing the bitter truth of how scared I am when confronted with the real demon, the real voices, the real deal
- trying to get to 46 before november 27
- losing about 1 to 1.5 per week
- lying to my parents every single fucking day
- watching chinese documentaries about "hate food condition" (literally)
- admiring the supposedly "stick-thin" and "malnourished" italian model that was used for an anorexia-awareness campaign in italy that affected models
- thinking that people i used to think were skinny are fat
- finding new idols
- reading new manga
- reading old manga
- reading manga
- tired
- researching democratic socialism, socialism in general, orwell's thoughts towards socialism

And I am going to:

- interview my history teacher about socialism and the facts and how it connects to orwell
- see a performance of "guys and dolls" at my old school
- lie to my parents every single fucking day
- write my first draft of my research paper
- finish my "tree-painting" journal entry in my art journal
- write 50 words on the summer+winter of "my town" in spanish
- do research about the conditions in china after world war 2
- prepare for an in-class literary essay on thursday
- run out of computer battery
- go to history class
- read Fairy Tail Extra chapter

And I guess that pretty much sums up my week.

Man, lists are so easy.

Oh, one more thing: I'm not the only one who knows about my supposed... condition.

I told Michelle.

It's scary, facing the fact that it might be real, a demon, a voice in my head that speaks voluntarily.

It's spoken twice. God. Like, involuntary thoughts.

What I've noticed:

- voices in my head
- how tired I am all of a sudden
- spacing out
- being really, really cold
- being lethargic most of the time
- more spacing out
- constipation
- vegetarianism
- pickiness
- excellent/excessive control

So I guess that's that.
portal, companion cube


Never seem to find enough time to post properly on weekends. But then again, nothing much happens, plus I was feeling very unproductive yesterday, but I reflected upon a few little things:

1) Mr J from year 8 at least noticed. He said "Today's one of those days, isn't it? Where you're just in one of those moods and can't get anything done?" Damn right. I felt so unproductive, tired, and eventually very sleepy yesterday. Just one of those days I can't get anything done, the day just drags oooooon and ooooooon and ooooon. In fact it still feels like that today, but... need to perk up for school... ugh.

2) I can hear voices now. Conflicting voices, involuntary voices. Here is an example of a conversation: "Look what mom said. She made it especially for you, she even fried an egg and put cheese and grilled the chicken and it's still hot and smells so good. You don't have to eat it for breakfast, this is a lunch food, you can eat it for lunch--" "NO. YOU WILL NOT BE EATING IT FOR LUNCH, OR FOR BREAKFAST, OR ANYTHING ELSE. You will be throwing this delicious sandwich away, like throwing your mom's previous love away. But you accepted her love, and as far as she knows, you ate it all up deliciously on the bus and she will be happy knowing that. What she doesn't know doesn't hurt her."

God, this is insane.

What she doesn't know doesn't hurt her? She will eventually find out. How am I going to stop but control myself at the same time? How can I lie? How can I change my behaviour without hurting her or betraying her trust? I already have, but how do I slowly tell her not to make breakfast for me? How do I stop eating breakfast without her knowing apart from throwing it away, betraying her love? And trust?

God I hate this. I hate all this lying. It'll hurt her in the end, and it'll hurt me. I have to stop.

But how to stop without the extra calories?

I can hear that voice behind me now. "The extra calories? Is that all you're thinking about? My god, you stupid bitch. Is being thin all you want? What about your mom? What are you going to tell her? How will you stop? Are you crazy? You don't care about them anymore? I thought you were putting them above yourself."

I am, I am! I'm trying! I don't want to hurt them, but I have, but they don't know it. How? How the fuck do you expect me to do this?

The answer is simple.

Eat it.

Eat it.

Eat it.

Go to lunch. Eat what you've been telling her you've been eating.

Either that or stop lying to her. Tell her to stop making you breakfast.

That's not realistic, is it?

I'll start eating next term. That's what I'll do.
portal, companion cube

////u qBR RI VW RGUB AI Vs eufgr biq vyr wcwetsT a u swxwucw nt oEWBRA U HYAR DWWK QIEAW bs qieaw,

Prizes to anyone who can figure out what that says.

It's totally true, by the way, and the process to figuring out what it says is much easier than you'd think.

I think that I just created a reliable secret code for myself.

Anyway, an update: yesterday was parent teacher conferences, and guess what? I've been such a good student that right now my parents are regretting going to the conferences at all. The teachers had nothing to say, no complaints, and my parents didn't have too many questions, and it took about 5 minutes to talk to each teacher.

I'm such a good student.

When did I become such a nerd?!

Anyway, so that's that, and this morning I did something I'm not particularly proud of.

/u riij ibw vBb bd  XIV ID XIEB bs  Xb id tJYKR bs ainw xgixikRWA bs rgewq rgwn KK qT,

Got that? So now you have even more incentive to figure out my code. Although I doubt anyone would want to, but anyway.

...I've just noticed.

Why am I still blogging? Jeez, it's not like anybody's reading it. Maybe it's just a form of getting out my thoughts to the world. In a semi-public manner. I mean, I don't know who's reading this. People could, just not commenting. But then again I don't think my blog contains anything particularly useful or interesting at all to anybody.

Why did I open it in the first place? Well I guess I thought I would be uploading nice pretty graphic designed pictures for everyone everyday, but as you can see that's not really happening.

But I have been at work. I've been trying to create ICNS for folders. They all look sort of roundish, shiny yet grungy, and I'm having a hell of a time making them. It's much, much harder than I first thought.

Anyway, so yeah. Homework to do, ARINxg ri arECW, and a shower to take. Bye for now!
portal, companion cube

Pokemon Platinum!


I'm rather happy right now because hopefully this version of Pokemon Platinum will save. My other one didn't, and what's the whole point of playing Pokemon if you can't save?

So, talking to Prof. Rowan and listening to badly-synthesized violin music in the introduction part.

You wonder, why does this chick like pokemon in the first place? Pokemon nerd chick.

Well, for starters, it's such a... happy world. Like adventuring, catching Pokemon, oooooooooh, yay, etc etc.

Also, Pokemon is significant to me because someone significant to me really loved Pokemon. Like, he was the total Pokemon nerd. Latios and Lugia and all those... yeah, he loved those.

But I guess this is residue from that significant person, but apart from this I'm over him. Grr.

Anyway, off to catch-em-all!

(English version is rather guey D:)


*5 minutes later edit*



Now I gotta find another one. DAMMMIT.
portal, companion cube

아이구, 미안!

Learning Korean enables me to say sorry, and I am. It's been ages (technically three days, but...) since I last posted; I've just been so busy!


 - doing homework
 - panicking about homework
 - finishing it on time anyway
 - checking out books
 - attending word meetings
 - trying to persuade myself to exercise
 - failing to exercise
 - downloading photoshop and illustrator freebies
 - reading photoshop tutorials

Come to think of it, it's a lot easier at my age to get interested in graphic and commercial design; there's so much of it surrounding us in such obvious ways, but psychology? That's a lot less... you know. Obvious. Directly relevant to career and extracurricular activities. It's not like "Psychology Club" or "Philosophy Club" or "Lie Detection Junior Agency" is going to be so impressive on your resume to colleges, even if you're applying for a psychology major.

I wonder though, because I've been looking up a lot about colleges lately. Well, last week mostly. I went to a bookstore and pored through Collegeboard's big book of colleges and majors. I'm guessing I'm most interested in Clinical Psychology and Forensic Psychology.

But seriously. At this age, and with the internet available, which is more accessible and well-designed and easy-to-understand? Photoshop tutorials or shady-looking, poorly-formatted websites about Paul Ekman and microexpressions?

Sure, the latter is really interesting (to me at least) but really, what kind of reliable and accessible information is there clearly at hand? God, this is such a dilemma.

Designing ads and logos? Or being a therapist? Which one would I want to be?

Like I said before in my bio: what if I became both? What if I pursued Clinical Psychology and how to teach psychology to students, and apply my own appealing, graphic designing mind to it? Would it be a lot more appealing to learn and easy to understand?

I wonder, really.

Apart from these musings, I have Halloween, baking, and missed college visits to catch up on this blog.

Ah, I do love blogging, even though nobody reads it. It kind of gets my mind cleared.

Well, 안녕!
portal, companion cube

i should really be sleeping.

Why must I get so excited over such a little thing?

I mean, my friends from my former school are most likely coming to my house this saturday to have fun, lunch, and trick/treating with me, that's all.

And I really really feel like sinking my teeth into a perfectly grilled piece of slightly crispy but soft chicken.

Dammit. I hate picturing_food community, but I love it, it's so beautiful. All that food I can just look at and not eat. Mmm. Creates a lot of cravings though, and that's not good.

But anyway. It's such a small thing. People would treat it as nothing, but who am I? I am a loner with exceptionally little real social contact and who rarely has fun. Getting good grades isn't so exciting anymore. I rarely have some real, good, deep-felt fun with real, good, old friends.


I am really socially deprived. I guess I'm not immune to loneliness. I mean, one can learn to live without social interaction, but I grew up as a social kid.

I miss social life.

But I don't trust anybody in my new school enough to be good friends. To me they're just cordial friends, people I talk with in class a little, say hi in corridors.

But they're not real friends. I don't feel comfortable with them.

I think I've at least started to accept them and be nice.

But I... I just don't trust them. There is no click.

Sigh. But was there ever a click? Or was I simply more open before, more friendly and nice and caring?

Heh. Caring. So overrated.

But... have I lost my ability to have fun?

God. So depressing.

On a lighter note, in according with my new favourite colour, I am going as little dead riding hood for halloween.

I will wear a black tutu skirt, tear up some stockings and a white tank top, covering it with blood, smear my face with blood and corpse paint, bring a picnic basket and don a red hood.

And carry a red umbrella. As a tribute.

To this blog.

On the other hand, with those sheep ears I could go as a sheep.


I shall be the killer Little Dead Riding Hood, with knives in my picnic basket and a hungry, insane look in my evil serial killer eye.