So I'm 109 Ibs now... I was 113... I want to be 107 by the end of the weekend but I don't think I'll be able to. I got a red bracelet to remind myself not to eat. One of those god forsaken 'ana bracelets' but I just look at it and think of the baby I'll never have. 

Work is shit... and I'm trying to draw and make something on a canvas but I'm shit at traditional art.

I feel useless... and fat. I'm just feeding into my problems. I bought jeans that don't really fit me. I mean I fit into them.. size 3. But I want them to be loose... right now they just fit... their not baggy.

Gah

So... I got my paycheck. And I had a shit morning because ghetto chicks are fucking a pain in my ass. I semi stole a belt... and my job is slowly making me racist...

Honestly I can handle when the white people call all irate but when ghetto entitled ignorant bitches call something in me just makes my heart beat faster and I get angrier and ready to fight for some reason.

Shit has happened but nothing really mentally has happened...

I'm still eating and slowly watching myself balloon up. I kind of do hope my 'OMG I'M GETTING FAT I WANNA STARVE!' thing kicks in...
Looking forward to my next pay checks... sucks I gotta wait till next week...

Feeling better, I've been eating and slowly not hating myself as much.  I just wonder how its going to be later on down the road.

Trying to find another job.

I'm shit in sales...

I can't force product down someones throat who clearly doesn't want that shit...

I hope i can keep my job, and my figure... Its so late for my sanity.

Not much to write today.  Work kills brain cells.

I'll try and draw something everytime I post... I think it lets me be a bit more weird and loose then I usually am when drawing.

David caught another fly. I just say 'fly' and he just gets it and kills it without any other word.  I just don't understand why he's so nice sometimes.

He also left a sweet message on my deviantart... I dunno.

I'm looking forward to my paycheck. I seriously want to some new fucking clothes.

Its a lot easier to work on superficial silly things like making my hair nice, and making myself look nice then actually working on drawing, or writing or becoming a better person.

Fuck being a better person. I wouldn't know how to go about that. I'm a selfish asshole who hates more then I care...  I'm 113 pounds...

Getter fatter by the hour. Like an inflattable mattress but instead of air its lard.

Fucking shit...

Basically. I ate a lot. Stuffing myself like a prize fucking cow. I've been wondering if I should even have any fucking kids. I probably shouldn't. What if I turn into my mother?

I'd fucking kill myself.

The moment of revelation that comes to me that I have turned into my mother is the moment I close my eyes, hold my breathe and just save the world another asshole. My mom should have killed herself. She should have killed herself a long time ago.

I shouldn't have kids, and I feel guilty for being married. He could do better. If I was going to kill myself I would wait... Like save some money take out a life insurance plan on me that way when I die at least he'll have some cash.

Finally get a dog without me bitching...

I don't like dogs.

He's playing video games right, he has been all day... I think thats all he does all day is just shoot people on the tv. Its weird. Not that I did anything productive while I was home.

I did nothing. At least I'm doing something for him. But he needs me like he needs a tumor in his nuts.

I liked starving a lot more then this shit.