tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12366046742665330782024-03-06T00:03:46.927-08:00Learning To FlyAlex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-65079501125218263992011-09-14T20:01:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:01:14.235-07:00It hurts.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kLcYUrYMD97Dj8u5aUncaUtAnDj62i7uJxLjxjP7mCYEo6fS_OAWOfnzvLfsscVq4hP2iKpW2Rm3yUw_Tr7BKDLSFLVKQsyHrzmjWDH_TeKRKE7dYpa6WFOJjYjYtYU5xHjEHmYt90Lp/s1600/18.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kLcYUrYMD97Dj8u5aUncaUtAnDj62i7uJxLjxjP7mCYEo6fS_OAWOfnzvLfsscVq4hP2iKpW2Rm3yUw_Tr7BKDLSFLVKQsyHrzmjWDH_TeKRKE7dYpa6WFOJjYjYtYU5xHjEHmYt90Lp/s320/18.png" width="320" /></a></div>I want to be like Effy from Skins.<br />
I want to be this way because she seems like nothing gets to her.<br />
She's bold.<br />
She's got nothing to lose.<br />
I wanna be like that.<br />
Willing to speak my mind because there's nothing more to lose.<br />
Keep everyone at arm's length because, well, why the fuck not?<br />
They're gonna leave anyway!<br />
I wanna be like Effy.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4DL51A_ndPhyZPbdLO_u8k3KKRXg-pb_MYpDqDigHv9ryU_cGuxncpYWwWbpYkmjSwLQjHdu2TKS_uNG6mzfA8zL6kP1-0rprGZ5Z5OmvD8wmX-Q4xNj9T86ZSlDo-w4xavliM6rGHBf/s1600/effy_skins_finger_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4DL51A_ndPhyZPbdLO_u8k3KKRXg-pb_MYpDqDigHv9ryU_cGuxncpYWwWbpYkmjSwLQjHdu2TKS_uNG6mzfA8zL6kP1-0rprGZ5Z5OmvD8wmX-Q4xNj9T86ZSlDo-w4xavliM6rGHBf/s320/effy_skins_finger_small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I want to be so like this woman that my friends call me by "Effy".<br />
I know she's not a real person, but I want to be like her. Beautiful, distant, and...sarcastic.<br />
Really, to be called Effy... would be an honor to me. Haha.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-88532888745270117422011-08-10T18:49:00.000-07:002011-08-10T18:49:38.188-07:00Already messed up....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUg2jZnI6R84lO3NXf9ubhjifm3G1j0ze6bjHPnLKNIvu_u806b3oj_nOoAxjYeoYM8Fll0m30Wd-pVeBGuwrFPsXx7t0wp3KVtpTFS0nqXgT-GsTeLgy17TXPa4ULp2OyRcg2dl5J8dZ/s1600/55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUg2jZnI6R84lO3NXf9ubhjifm3G1j0ze6bjHPnLKNIvu_u806b3oj_nOoAxjYeoYM8Fll0m30Wd-pVeBGuwrFPsXx7t0wp3KVtpTFS0nqXgT-GsTeLgy17TXPa4ULp2OyRcg2dl5J8dZ/s1600/55.jpg" /></a></div>I'm barely into my diet and messed up. It's freaking horrible. I'm so...weak. I hate it. Yes, I'm being hard on myself.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie:</a> I had loads of fun in the hotel (even though being with family and friend was the reasons I messed up a lot =/). I wish we could text, that'd be awesome. I sometimes tell my mom how many calories are in some fruit without even thinking about it. It usually helps her pick it as a healthier snack, though. ^^<br />
<br />
<a href="http://brokenlittlegirl.blogspot.com/">Rachael</a>: It would be so exciting and motivating to have you text me. I had a lot of fun, but didn't really stay strong. Although, I've changed my diet and I think I can stick with it now. Hopefully. =/Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-9160870491946183172011-08-06T20:28:00.000-07:002011-08-06T20:28:45.401-07:00Proper dieting starts...tomorrow.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6k6XApxOy6biJxE8ibikeeRbvdQ2YB-fPaRvBAGZd1LBOBsFJCR6tmhdZwbslflj6rA7vVRkWqQWbmmIZqMzDzNTPbsJZ2dy4JIJNVbbQ-u6IumsAroxXgx5I-HiK5pafBMDJbTGrTvDu/s1600/tumblr_kqob6cfMjy1qa499ao1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6k6XApxOy6biJxE8ibikeeRbvdQ2YB-fPaRvBAGZd1LBOBsFJCR6tmhdZwbslflj6rA7vVRkWqQWbmmIZqMzDzNTPbsJZ2dy4JIJNVbbQ-u6IumsAroxXgx5I-HiK5pafBMDJbTGrTvDu/s320/tumblr_kqob6cfMjy1qa499ao1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Not because I'm trying to be lazy, but because today has been screwed to all insanity. But this post isn't about that.<br />
I want to thank all of you who are still supporting me. That's very lovely of you and I feel amazing. My almost-140-pound-ass does not deserve such lovely people to express such care about me. <br />
Also, I will not be on, to the best of my knowledge, Monday or Tuesday. I'll ask my mom if the hotel has Wi-Fi. It has a pool, she thinks. Oh, it's got wi-fi, I might be online then (I'll bring the scale too, just in case they don't have one).<br />
So, why didn't I think I'd be on? Anna and I might be going to the hotel with my mom when she goes off to her meeting.<br />
You know what I wish? I wish we could all text each other. Text each other our weights, out plans for the day. Just become a CLOSER group. We're close, yes we are, but I wish we could be closer. Why? I get lonely and want someone to text up and say "Dang, I'm eating like a pig" and have them tell me to stop that.<br />
Alright... Tomorrow, five hundred calories eaten. And a 30 minute walk (110).<br />
My friend was reading Wintergirls over my shoulder and finally asked why there were numbers "randomly". Calories, my dear. That's how I think sometimes too, when I'm really into the counting of calories.<br />
<br />
Comments:<br />
<br />
Thank you <a href="http://glassimagination.blogspot.com/">Sammy</a>, <a href="http://brokenlittlegirl.blogspot.com/">Rachael</a>, and <a href="http://nasimiyu-will-be-skinny.blogspot.com/">Nasimiyu</a>. It's very encouraging to have people tell me that they aren't going to judge my change of decision.<br />
<br />
P.S. For those of you wondering, I also run <a href="http://chokingonglass.blogspot.com/">Choking On Glass.</a> Just so that you guys know.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-73829424137975062372011-08-05T21:28:00.000-07:002011-08-05T21:31:13.370-07:00HellO<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgD01D-K9UpGHHwtTqaBwl5N8YT77OT-K8mNynkeeCclJeFEl2HNJ6Ge4y_Jk63_TdpbjQNNg3-4Gg_hZZJFCiVh5FiwmEVIqSA22KZ0kt5QNu9hDALxucQ0m7BZCZOUBwRsf0QMWdqVR/s1600/tumblr_lj63179hVM1qgws8ko1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgD01D-K9UpGHHwtTqaBwl5N8YT77OT-K8mNynkeeCclJeFEl2HNJ6Ge4y_Jk63_TdpbjQNNg3-4Gg_hZZJFCiVh5FiwmEVIqSA22KZ0kt5QNu9hDALxucQ0m7BZCZOUBwRsf0QMWdqVR/s400/tumblr_lj63179hVM1qgws8ko1_400.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I've decided to tell you guys... I'm so sick and tired of trying to be healthy. I know, when I started this blog I was so excited. I was finally gonna get it right. Now, school's almost started. I wanna be smaller. I wanna be in control. Obviously, I'm gonna start controlling how I eat even more. I don't want to be fat again.<br />
So, please support me even now that I'm not trying to "be healthy". It would mean the world to me. ^^Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-77121512334872880952011-08-01T21:38:00.000-07:002011-08-01T21:38:52.499-07:00I'm not ready.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3grlTP41sl5bRJBxERjQMlgGKIq5cimFTCFyp5N0K1bQFDJCoqrNy-8eb93OcQSW3EVGKPaStfKAL1C7XYEmM5O9mF4N9gjMJdce2-Z5sx_RFWzw1yEiNwsutGufCr2M5flb5_Q71twl/s1600/1440497_wingless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3grlTP41sl5bRJBxERjQMlgGKIq5cimFTCFyp5N0K1bQFDJCoqrNy-8eb93OcQSW3EVGKPaStfKAL1C7XYEmM5O9mF4N9gjMJdce2-Z5sx_RFWzw1yEiNwsutGufCr2M5flb5_Q71twl/s320/1440497_wingless.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I have to quit cutting, I don't want to have to start eating again. I want to count the calories that force their way into my system. <br />
Maybe it's reading Wintergirls that's making me this way or actually talking about it to one of my friends. I want people who keep me on track. People who text me every day, saying "You need to exercise, fatty" or something similiar. None of my friends will do that for me. I want someone to tell me how they're diet is going so I can get jealous and try harder. I want someone... I want someone who pushes me. Who never tells me how great I'm doing. It's a lot to ask for, but I mean, I wanna push myself now. <br />
I'm becoming a mess again. And I love it. When I do sit-ups, my spine grinds into the floor and it hurts and it's so lovely.<br />
Any of you wanna help me be a mess?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT4OHwN5R3-vC_8qmWCgX-I-HYO5B8Fv4bMKwClE2BF8lcw4QJh5n9R6LaAAfo6lKr1BUx39KwVCXPBcyTEGxYemeOOKrys7JRLeOK_kWl3Idc9x8B3EXGug6GdTCIMSxSp6yLse1x-Lj/s1600/1352100374_5_K27B_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT4OHwN5R3-vC_8qmWCgX-I-HYO5B8Fv4bMKwClE2BF8lcw4QJh5n9R6LaAAfo6lKr1BUx39KwVCXPBcyTEGxYemeOOKrys7JRLeOK_kWl3Idc9x8B3EXGug6GdTCIMSxSp6yLse1x-Lj/s320/1352100374_5_K27B_large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>You can e-mail me at <a href="mailto:chokingonglass@hotmail">chokingonglass@hotmail</a> (no, I haven't changed e-mail) for my phone number, if you want. Just tell me who you are when you e-mail me.<br />
<br />
Otherwise, I've been lovely. I told one of my friends about how I don't eat much. Now I need to live up to that.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://fivefaintfootsteps.blogspot.com/">Kes</a>: I can't really tell you how my face looks. I think it's fat, but my dad once said my face is gaunt from "all of that puking" (I don't puke and never have). I usually end up with split ends too. My hair just grows out a lot before I get them, so I go back and have my hair cut to how it was before it grew out.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-12943328082204868362011-07-31T05:20:00.000-07:002011-07-31T05:20:35.922-07:00I love messing with my hair.I hair spray it, dye it, tease it, gel it, and just generally mess with it. I make it look what I see as adorable, but normal people see are completely odd. But I wanna get it cut like the picture below.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZix4V7VRlc3Ad2dO8cRMq4jQoNjTeq6lFP38fefwjBVINyGwO3SUZuiN_ZTPgc5hHz0uxTwWCOvBuAwr8qaodq3aYmsNzJlkUziVuq-i7mJ-OxuqplV3mRhr4B4cDrQcbJ-RqFZH7qXCg/s1600/short-layered-hairstyle-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZix4V7VRlc3Ad2dO8cRMq4jQoNjTeq6lFP38fefwjBVINyGwO3SUZuiN_ZTPgc5hHz0uxTwWCOvBuAwr8qaodq3aYmsNzJlkUziVuq-i7mJ-OxuqplV3mRhr4B4cDrQcbJ-RqFZH7qXCg/s1600/short-layered-hairstyle-02.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No that color, I'm hoping of talking Mommy into pink hair with blue streaks. So, what's you guys opinion on the style?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Speaking of my hair, this lady was going into Game Stop and I heard her in the parking lot. "...And especially with <em>that hair</em>." I smirked after that. I'm sure she was talking about the mess on my head. It was great. I'm sure it was something like "How could her mother take her out like that? Especially with that hair?" Because I was also dressed a little oddly. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://fivefaintfootsteps.blogspot.com/">Kes</a>: I don't remember which one I used, to be honest. Haha. I've made one. Well, actually, Anna made it and brought it over to my house. I started shaking when I used it and I didn't stop until, like, ten minutes later. It was just my hand that was shakey too, which was kind of weird at the time. I'm not really sure if ours was what anyone would consider "safe" but Anna tried to make it safe, haha. See, I dunno what religion I am anymore, which I think is a natural young teen thing to go through at least once, but I love the thought of magick and Ouija boards and Tarot cards and just all of it in general. Haha.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alright, now I'm gonna go get ready for church because I'm bisexual and obviously in need of the Lord's saving. I think that's what my mom thinks about me anyway. O.O</div>Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-48513202063677904392011-07-21T23:23:00.000-07:002011-07-21T23:23:17.917-07:00Food, cousins, that insane urge to text the one you love at insane times.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCe53Xs2z-Ha2yAxIgMHfRnhDVkRDj43_tWLUOw1K0TDKvdi0gz2oPWI76cxW2uZdn_3Ghg5eBiuFGqbbNp1zg6Df8vwSBTsu65pM5sA4X0kJCYoUvKuloNmEC7qE9yKHQAyS99NaIZtN3/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCe53Xs2z-Ha2yAxIgMHfRnhDVkRDj43_tWLUOw1K0TDKvdi0gz2oPWI76cxW2uZdn_3Ghg5eBiuFGqbbNp1zg6Df8vwSBTsu65pM5sA4X0kJCYoUvKuloNmEC7qE9yKHQAyS99NaIZtN3/s320/untitled.png" width="320" /></a></div>Alright, so I played with an online Ouija board. I know, I need to stay away from those things. They make it so I'm jumpy and paranoid. And apparently make me itch enough that I claw at my skin. I wanna text Cassie, want her to tell me it's just something stupid. Even if it is one in the morning. She has to be awake, right. AH! My foot vibrated! Heh heh, I'll be ok. I'm sure! Yeah, doesn't help that my idiot Wiccan friend told me he put a fuckin demon in my room.<br />
Food? Well today I had the egg white of TWO hard boiled eggs, TWO small slices of cake, and one nasty, huge taco. I was trying to fast. Fail.<br />
My cousins have been at my grandma's house for...three days. Three. Days. Two of which I went out to my grandma's and had everyone watching me like a hawk (not really, it just felt like that).<br />
It's gonna be hard, later today, when I have to eat more cake.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-35394084766480820642011-07-17T09:31:00.000-07:002011-07-17T09:31:39.690-07:00Have to eat today.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CrMM_OVsYeoX0mT5aMUPY66dzg-xrW0SG8HnPHU0s9ldC2dzCGqt-dzJ27GPXIaeiGhFiJjApYY-raqTKOu_32iif964fALS7b118cad5eumvXlZYzlxBRhbrcLpKZiiNSXMI8PgtaFV/s1600/OsaPZCgTrpb66rbrztRkDZE0o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CrMM_OVsYeoX0mT5aMUPY66dzg-xrW0SG8HnPHU0s9ldC2dzCGqt-dzJ27GPXIaeiGhFiJjApYY-raqTKOu_32iif964fALS7b118cad5eumvXlZYzlxBRhbrcLpKZiiNSXMI8PgtaFV/s320/OsaPZCgTrpb66rbrztRkDZE0o1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Cassie and I made a deal.<br />
She didn't smoke pot last night, I have to eat today.<br />
I told her that she may wanna try everything once, but she has to have limits.<br />
Addiction runs in our families.<br />
For that reason, I won't touch alcohol (or anything else).<br />
So...She didn't and now I have to eat.<br />
I'm happy, but at the same time, I wanna cheat.<br />
I don't want to eat today.<br />
Maybe tomorrow?<br />
No, no, I have to.<br />
I said I would.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZLYMAHJaht-MzxKzIY7qDdMWIyjlfk5Je1iBCeRJsdeyWsi_2cI6d3SmGjLqsXNWcAfkXKwIYsyYEfmIdMYVWPOKL1QT-ADecq10IVFnMH36XksleQTZ78M7i4CQsDBKg0Z_x8CqUixe/s1600/tumblr_lk3t6uKBtw1qciek8o1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZLYMAHJaht-MzxKzIY7qDdMWIyjlfk5Je1iBCeRJsdeyWsi_2cI6d3SmGjLqsXNWcAfkXKwIYsyYEfmIdMYVWPOKL1QT-ADecq10IVFnMH36XksleQTZ78M7i4CQsDBKg0Z_x8CqUixe/s320/tumblr_lk3t6uKBtw1qciek8o1_500.png" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKneCcAa4r9U_9RoEVLMPj9TQ3b3L-EXdz1FJDraGhGnnffR7qxrEjmk4U6v-GBKI1L9vr2W9SFISN9vx4jpb8D0qfXRssUnA6tA3r5cducvKM4Ovf6hmQV_bckryhNvWmMXVXaANS5eK/s1600/tumblr_lohghw2IzJ1qdls47o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKneCcAa4r9U_9RoEVLMPj9TQ3b3L-EXdz1FJDraGhGnnffR7qxrEjmk4U6v-GBKI1L9vr2W9SFISN9vx4jpb8D0qfXRssUnA6tA3r5cducvKM4Ovf6hmQV_bckryhNvWmMXVXaANS5eK/s320/tumblr_lohghw2IzJ1qdls47o1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a>Just because she isn't here to make sure I don't doesn't mean I can go without eating.<br />
It doesn't help that I'm looking at thinspo.<br />
I believe I told her I would eat today. Period.<br />
Not that I'd eat "normally".<br />
So, two meals, no snacks.<br />
At the very worst this should be 800 calories.<br />
My wrists are starting to lose their boney look.<br />
I like them when they look boney.<br />
I can wrap my thumb and index finger around them and they touch.<br />
Not overlap, not yet, just touch. Really easily.<br />
I love, love, love littering my blog with pictures. I kinda feel like they express my mood better than my words do.<br />
I...Last night made me realize that I really do love Cassie. I don't want her to do anything that could harm her long-term. I...I really wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her she didn't need that shit and that she's different, which is an art and a beauty.<br />
I feel like I should apologize for the pot bashing I'm doing, but I don't really care.<br />
In case you can't tell, I'm lonely today. It pretty much sucks.<br />
<br />
Oh! My family says I'm getting thinner. So why am I not losing weight? Why?!<br />
Mini-fit over.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-87435543279238537112011-07-16T18:24:00.000-07:002011-07-16T19:56:15.027-07:00I've Decided.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9aokyT0HL-_pq-bSBU2igaLXz8UqDpz_FuExYd1RgXAFvLMerhlGu0lYbFzuStAVtGCX4ow8RkEUf_QfF1e4cOKty9cJbxQBH-4_h-XlBFPy0C1SyrcmNBTguR903-Fe-oevVKDE-O_5/s1600/2+%25286%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9aokyT0HL-_pq-bSBU2igaLXz8UqDpz_FuExYd1RgXAFvLMerhlGu0lYbFzuStAVtGCX4ow8RkEUf_QfF1e4cOKty9cJbxQBH-4_h-XlBFPy0C1SyrcmNBTguR903-Fe-oevVKDE-O_5/s1600/2+%25286%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9aokyT0HL-_pq-bSBU2igaLXz8UqDpz_FuExYd1RgXAFvLMerhlGu0lYbFzuStAVtGCX4ow8RkEUf_QfF1e4cOKty9cJbxQBH-4_h-XlBFPy0C1SyrcmNBTguR903-Fe-oevVKDE-O_5/s1600/2+%25286%2529.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhjLR-kuKvDrj-N0ic_LxGCliNMSJzd2c6um0Klc6nw8zFa8murrNRpjmi6wai_37_h8OolLJDkMNu9LFfy_ovQ-PtX4F7_mopi9zDgBv642XUOPw0MnCqDQDW11xTJ3PS35YhvEbYNwF/s1600/flowers%252Cgirl%252Coutdoors%252Cphotography%252Csunbeam%252Cthenightshedied-abf177ae873579b708dd5594bb18ef0a_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>I like being in school than on break.<br />
Why?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEEba02YQqvJeb1pYEl_aW53gzXmQt0TPN_yiObAARBwOrJpeza4nrRqtR4Z7Fu9_F9dsOBSydFfiZXtzzx2IoxG2O04AVbPBYTw54-z6QZmepiOabYZMC_zekw5peGq9wwNiTi4r_jhp/s1600/untitled28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEEba02YQqvJeb1pYEl_aW53gzXmQt0TPN_yiObAARBwOrJpeza4nrRqtR4Z7Fu9_F9dsOBSydFfiZXtzzx2IoxG2O04AVbPBYTw54-z6QZmepiOabYZMC_zekw5peGq9wwNiTi4r_jhp/s320/untitled28.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>I only feel the need to eat one meal during school.<br />
See, at lunch, I feel like everyone is watching me eat. So I don't eat lunch at school.<br />
Don't have time for breakfast in the morning.<br />
Sometimes, when I was feeling "ok" I ate a snack after school.<br />
That usually led to stomach pains.<br />
Then, a salad for supper.<br />
I'm sick of salad.<br />
I want a huge, fatty hamburger.<br />
Thank goodness I've decided to be a vegetarian.<br />
No huge, fatty hamburger for Alex.<br />
Stayed the night at Anna's the day before yesterday.<br />
Anna stayed here last night.<br />
<br />
Anna is turning 15 on the 22.<br />
I'm thinking...of fasting at least one day before Anna's birthday.<br />
Starting tomorrow.<br />
Also, Cassie knows about how I dislike eating.<br />
She'll be at Anna's party.<br />
I have to restrict my eating in front of her.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhjLR-kuKvDrj-N0ic_LxGCliNMSJzd2c6um0Klc6nw8zFa8murrNRpjmi6wai_37_h8OolLJDkMNu9LFfy_ovQ-PtX4F7_mopi9zDgBv642XUOPw0MnCqDQDW11xTJ3PS35YhvEbYNwF/s1600/flowers%252Cgirl%252Coutdoors%252Cphotography%252Csunbeam%252Cthenightshedied-abf177ae873579b708dd5594bb18ef0a_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhjLR-kuKvDrj-N0ic_LxGCliNMSJzd2c6um0Klc6nw8zFa8murrNRpjmi6wai_37_h8OolLJDkMNu9LFfy_ovQ-PtX4F7_mopi9zDgBv642XUOPw0MnCqDQDW11xTJ3PS35YhvEbYNwF/s320/flowers%252Cgirl%252Coutdoors%252Cphotography%252Csunbeam%252Cthenightshedied-abf177ae873579b708dd5594bb18ef0a_m.jpg" width="320" /></a>That way she'll believe me when I tell her that it's so hard to eat.<br />
I'm also going to look super emo in front of her.<br />
Why?<br />
Her and her friends have this thing going where they make fun of emos. And I consider myself to be emo.<br />
It's a fashion. That's all.<br />
Cassie told me cutters are idiots. Maybe we are, but it's not her place to say.<br />
From what Anna says, Cassie pierces her skin whenever she's stressed out.<br />
We cut, you pierce. What's the huge difference? Internal bleeding compared to external?<br />
Yes, this means a new post on my other blog.<br />
Cassie does little that eats way at me.<br />
Telling me I'm an idiot for cutting is one of them.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirfz-uFlQWEnjRGPQt8Tk9h2jfqofjD2Jr_-xwwPOB5P_oAIGTNc1otGLDAxACQ-DCREk3TDxqiPbucgzp22EOhwAXqZAuYSdgQZsmBl7S8wXLomUmFmIPgAksq4y7oAQlxEZIjIhTlAn/s1600/z214933606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirfz-uFlQWEnjRGPQt8Tk9h2jfqofjD2Jr_-xwwPOB5P_oAIGTNc1otGLDAxACQ-DCREk3TDxqiPbucgzp22EOhwAXqZAuYSdgQZsmBl7S8wXLomUmFmIPgAksq4y7oAQlxEZIjIhTlAn/s400/z214933606.jpg" width="265" /></a>She doesn't know my story. She can't even remember the part where she was a big part of it.<br />
The physical pain releases the pains that are emotional that I can't get out in the ways I know how. Does that make me an idiot?<br />
I suppose it could.<br />
I want to tell Cassie all my plans.<br />
How I want to starve and fast for nearly a week.<br />
But I only have one bar of battery.<br />
If I text her, it shouldn't be about such sad things.<br />
I may send her a text that says "You know that no matter how bad I hurt myself, I love you, right?"<br />
If she asks why I say that, I may tell her that I'm the idiot not planning to eat for a couple days.<br />
But it's not idiotic.<br />
It's skinny.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h1 class="fn" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><a href="http://nasimiyu-will-be-skinny.blogspot.com/">Nasimiyu</a>:</b> Hi! I believe this is your first comment on my blog! That's super exciting to see a new name! I kinda don't hope my new therapist is better because the old one was pretty good. In less than a year, with once a month visits, she made me want to believe that I was a worth while person. I have to be pretty to be worthwhile. I type that even as I take a gulp of sugar and other gross things invested <b>soda.</b></span></h1><h1 class="fn" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></h1><h1 class="fn" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a>: </b>I think it's because she was in shock that she didn't react to me saying that I don't eat much. </span></h1>P.S. I have re-fallen in love with Harry Potter. Yeahh<br />
<br />
P.S.S. Ok, Cassie is usually going on about how stoners suck and how straight edge (meaning she won't do drugs) she is. Now she's tried pot. Well, then, since you get to be an idiot, then I get to be one. You smoke it, I'll cut. Fucking happy? She was my only reason to not cut.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-90846306665471922102011-07-12T21:47:00.000-07:002011-07-12T21:47:38.092-07:00Hey, Alex, Let's Play A GameLet's see how long we can go without...that before they notice.<br />
I'm down with this.<br />
One day, two days?<br />
Maybe more?<br />
So, therapy today.<br />
"You need to take your pills every day."<br />
"Are you eating right?"<br />
"Not on diet pills?"<br />
Lied through the psychiatrist appointment, but told my therapist everything. Difference? Dad wasn't around with my therapist.<br />
I really just wanted to tell someone.<br />
She didn't seem to take it seriously when I told her that a year ago I could tell you everything I had eaten and every calorie in it.<br />
Today, I was under 900, I know that I was.<br />
I'm a good girl.<br />
My Cassie still makes my heart race. Over TEXTS. Text messages! It's this... heart racing, wanna keep typing so you'll keep replying, woah I feel amazing feeling. She makes me happy. And she's straight.<br />
But she made me think about the future and that scared me.<br />
I wanted to not think about the future for the longest time, but she made me.<br />
Wanna know what I want in ten years?<br />
A son<br />
to be either in college or out of college<br />
a husband or at least someone who loves me<br />
my own little store where I can sell cookies, cupcakes, little bears, and just cute little things<br />
And friends who just love me.<br />
I don't see the people in my life now as being in my world in ten years except I really want Cassie and Anna in my life and they're amazing people.<br />
I'm watching the dramafest that is Teen Mom.<br />
It really scares me about getting pregnant, not that I'm not already scared about getting pregnant. I'm scared of getting pregnant because...then I'd want to eat. Then I wouldn't be able to just live for me.<br />
Okay...So I just realized how immature I feel and I think that's why moving on scares me. I want to go back. Not forward. Because forward may mean another day where I skip another meal, another day where I feel fat, another month of feeling worthless, another year where I'm up and down and on a complete roller-coaster. The past, I know what happened then. I want to go back. To before J.P. happened. Because I love Cassie and Anna and we were the perfect trio.<br />
So...I feel so weird because I don't know what to do.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://fivefaintfootsteps.blogspot.com/">Kes</a>: Alright, my therapist did not even really...react when I told her that I that I hadn't eaten lunch the last month of school. I suppose I should have mentioned that most mornings I didn't eat breakfast either. But after your rant, I won't expect too much from my new therapist.<br />
<br />
P.S. My current therapist is being moved to just Drug and Alcohol counseling. I'm pretty bummed out about it, but it'll be cool. I'll be meeting a new person. They're also trying to get me into a socializing class. Like..to teach me how to better socialize with people because socializing makes me really nervous. Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-23511267037305934032011-07-11T21:56:00.000-07:002011-07-11T21:56:25.528-07:00Sorry For Not Blogging Much.Okay, first, I got ALL four of my wisdom teeth removed, now I'm having a reaction to the antibiotic and the allergy meds make me feel sick.<br />
But I'm seeing my therapist tomorrow, so I'm thinking too much.<br />
Told my mom that I skipped lunch most of the last month of school. Wanna know what she did?<br />
<b>Nothing.</b><br />
So...Liquid fast until I have to eat?<br />
Sounds hot.<br />
Also, I've been thinking.<br />
Some days, I'm fine being the average weight girl who sleeps perfectly at night.<br />
Other days, I wanna eat under 300 calories for days on end so I'm that girl who wakes up dazed, thinking she's in the hospital because she finally passed out.<br />
I wanna get up and almost fall back down because I'm dizzy.<br />
Oh, with Cassie...I finally asked her out.<br />
It went...not well.<br />
"I'm not going out with you."<br />
"I don't love you, Alex. And I never will."<br />
"I'm sorry."<br />
There are cuts on my legs where I just went crazy.<br />
It hurt so much to read those words.<br />
It was the pain pills I took that had me ask her out.<br />
So why am I still in love?<br />
I've decided that it would be cool to meet people who went to therapy for the same reasons I'm doing it. Cutting and starving. I think I'd fit in, finally.<br />
Still about 131,130,129. Need. Lower. Number. Now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/"><b>Lottie</b></a> It's a very odd feeling, but it's become more comforting. Like, it's relaxed a little, so it's just...there. So it's comforting. Because it means something knows when I curl up on my bed and just...cry.<br />
<br />
P.S. My computer is also broken, so I have to use the one in the living area. So I can't really read your blogs except off my phone. :/Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-38793674541313509202011-07-07T00:28:00.000-07:002011-07-07T00:28:25.274-07:00I eat as normal as I can<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy3PjA1d90LGNGJ5TjmKigMVFbEhiA067X3Biesf1XphhR4KHTo7wgeUPwk3K13y5iE1rdg-wERW_dMEyOxOHu7L3xdDQhkhyO9CNZzQnFeEqLjhhyphenhyphenPQdTnsj6GeXbbObBgGADRCoi85g/s1600/c9841b5d7c9996921bc089acbde61443_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy3PjA1d90LGNGJ5TjmKigMVFbEhiA067X3Biesf1XphhR4KHTo7wgeUPwk3K13y5iE1rdg-wERW_dMEyOxOHu7L3xdDQhkhyO9CNZzQnFeEqLjhhyphenhyphenPQdTnsj6GeXbbObBgGADRCoi85g/s320/c9841b5d7c9996921bc089acbde61443_large.png" width="300" /></a>So why is my grandma asking if I puke what I eat?<br />
And if I even eat?<br />
No one asked when I <b>didn't</b> eat enough! Now, I exercise two days in a row and eat like a normal person, and people wonder if I'm not eating.<br />
What the hell?<br />
I'm 130 pounds. That's "healthy". Sorry I got sick of being fat, so I did something about it!<br />
Ohhh, I see that I have 10 followers. That's so epic. I love you guys. <br />
Also, I may not post for a few days. I'm getting my wisdom teeth ripped out of my face later today.<br />
Uhm... I feel like I should say more about my day...<br />
Cassie and I talked like all day. I love it. I love this woman too much.<br />
She tells me I'm gorgeous and I want so desperately to believe her. <br />
<br />
Oh, oh, have I mentioned that I come from a Christian family? I think I have. Well, I do. Grew up with the romantic idea of guardian angels. Which is funny because I spent time tonight looking up demons. Why? Because I believe in them and because when I wasn't friends with J.R. he supposedly summoned on to torture me. Only...in the time frame that he said he summoned it, my life got BETTER <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8X9OZX1vjZO8A6XRMDzJq4QibKB7WP_6-Ub4PI4f9PecmKKa-FLbfGVy6fwmQxUGj170ZutQbYt8F6Y-c5WYlXa6374Hl49zA4RW4bmT5HStWLzytCnCjlvVaVr-mgo01js3e39bMvUy/s1600/expectations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8X9OZX1vjZO8A6XRMDzJq4QibKB7WP_6-Ub4PI4f9PecmKKa-FLbfGVy6fwmQxUGj170ZutQbYt8F6Y-c5WYlXa6374Hl49zA4RW4bmT5HStWLzytCnCjlvVaVr-mgo01js3e39bMvUy/s400/expectations.jpg" width="400" /></a>See a problem? <br />
So, I demanded that he tell me all he knows about it. Waiting for that reply.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMWI-Zmvayi7fOs2sJDPsr5BguwQIsKKpaatC0ytxkvr7LGcoBXhnn0Kp-fjSJARToXQLPAjUMAPrMyuyb1OaKBjgdVh3MSEaO8h1QZh5HaM9DCWwvy8ktrz9wekKFoj-_p0TNjcwSRNw/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMWI-Zmvayi7fOs2sJDPsr5BguwQIsKKpaatC0ytxkvr7LGcoBXhnn0Kp-fjSJARToXQLPAjUMAPrMyuyb1OaKBjgdVh3MSEaO8h1QZh5HaM9DCWwvy8ktrz9wekKFoj-_p0TNjcwSRNw/s320/21.jpg" width="320" /></a>But, other than Anna being scratched for laying in this spot on my bed that we refer to as "its spot" and me waking up with teeth prints on my arm when I slept in a different room, nothing has happened. And he says this is one bad ass demon. It's not that I want something terrifying to happen, I'm just scratching my head going, "What? Did it take a liking to me?"<br />
Now, J.R. is depressed. He says this demon is supposed to cause misery. I still feel watched in my room, but it's more calm, relaxed and just like "oh, hey, I'm here." ish.<br />
Sorry, most of you don't care and it's not that exciting of a story, but I felt like typing tonight.<br />
What I'm getting at is I long ago gave up on believing any angel would want to watch over me. But maybe not this-this...thing. Usually, with Anna, I call it a monster, but that sounds so cruel and judging. I refuse to be judgmental of something that's never hurt me.<br />
Wow, long post. Sorry.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. WOOOO!!! TEN FOLLOWERS!!Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-72711493686498756622011-07-05T20:32:00.000-07:002011-07-05T20:32:56.149-07:00After Two Weeks,It hurts like when I started.<br />
Tonight, I calmed myself down. With my razor.<br />
I'm a weak child.<br />
Let's just say it.<br />
WEAK FUCKING CHILD.<br />
I'm kinda disappointed, but not really.<br />
Cassie was my reason to not do it and when that NEED to do it hit hard...she wasn't there. I love this bitch and she can't talk me out of cutting? To think, we were "BFF"s at one time...Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-75477131451589902972011-07-05T15:35:00.000-07:002011-07-05T15:35:31.021-07:00Just got done exercisingI took an hour to burn about 80 calories. And then went to McDonald's and got a fruit parfait (190) and a small powerade (100) added to my total of 440. This puts me at 730 for the consumed. And I still need to eat supper.<br />
But my net would beeee 650. I need to eat a little more. For my Cassie and for being healthy. But I feel all nice and full~Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-17676761349739076532011-07-05T12:25:00.000-07:002011-07-05T12:25:37.588-07:00Gym<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDcnluRGzyvPkl8FDzH-WMUBEq3NYQSlSIZ9Lc4P4d3O9nvVbisCsEdjuvxeB83vJ9-SZCamhDxtu52Z0G4CX6ZiWMl1SEmRBBwH8M5nNB3DPPaHIMjot11ga1VDfDGbZcazpfbNiAtfa/s1600/untitled24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDcnluRGzyvPkl8FDzH-WMUBEq3NYQSlSIZ9Lc4P4d3O9nvVbisCsEdjuvxeB83vJ9-SZCamhDxtu52Z0G4CX6ZiWMl1SEmRBBwH8M5nNB3DPPaHIMjot11ga1VDfDGbZcazpfbNiAtfa/s320/untitled24.jpg" width="320" /></a>Today, I was showed how to use the cardio machines at the gym. This means I can now walk in there, with my mom, and use them. This is treadmill, those bicycle ones, and the stair-y ones. I'm excited! Seriously.<br />
Also, my friend Anna is really excited. We have a whole forty views. I know that's not much, but considering how just off the wall the video is, I'd say it's great. Most of our views come from North America, obviously. But thank you ALL for the support. It means a lot to her and me. I'll be posting a video as soon as I get my video camera.<br />
So, I spent, like, two nights at Anna's house. It was... cool. Got hit, on accident, with a fire cracker.. It hurt. Haven't been eating much recently, but I need to. See, Miss Cassie has me striving to be health. For her. Because, well, I'm totally in love with this girl.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2epCLnmVgAcWPg1W95YIGthcIqTBldem6qWHDxwieqPx-dquUBIVYmyp_abhfQOL5s9kngbT0I5EDG42XtoSuhe9kYo7Bop1En_62ZBQr4gwsIxR_mgHjFfF3oP8pi6R4o3f7DP9YZNmO/s1600/97944129_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2epCLnmVgAcWPg1W95YIGthcIqTBldem6qWHDxwieqPx-dquUBIVYmyp_abhfQOL5s9kngbT0I5EDG42XtoSuhe9kYo7Bop1En_62ZBQr4gwsIxR_mgHjFfF3oP8pi6R4o3f7DP9YZNmO/s400/97944129_m.jpg" width="266" /></a>Oh! On that note, Cassie told me the night she stayed here, which was like the second of July, I think, that her sun used to rise and set with me.<br />
I, being the hypocrite I am, told her to never let someone rule her life, even if she thinks she loves them. I love her, wholely and completely...and I let that run me.When she says eat, I ask how much. When she says don't cut, I swear to never do it. When she kissed my cheek, I could tell you I was in heaven. When she said that sleeping by me was a mistake, it was hell. She tore out my heart and threw it on the floor without even knowing it.<br />
I have a notebook full of things I'm terrified to tell her.<br />
Like how I'm scared to lose her because I'll feel completely alone again.<br />
With her, my heart goes pitter-patter and I can't seem to make it stop.<br />
Yeah, she told me the best night I've had in a long time was a mistake to her. I can't see it that way. Yes, I'm torn up, feel like cuddling everyone, want to cry, and spent the whole night wanting to kiss her, but I don't see it as a mistake. We talked all night. I kissed her forehead. Fuck it all, I fell FACE FIRST in love with her...AGAIN. Her heart skipped beats. All the suppressed feelings she had for me began to bubble up. Only...she told me straight up that she wouldn't date a girl.<br />
Funny, isn't it? I'm fuckin willing to dedicate my life to her, have a long distance relationship (if it's with her), wait hours for her texts, want to cry myself to sleep, all of these things. She won't date a girl, though. She swears that she's straight, but GOD DAMN IT! it felt good to hold her. It felt so freaking right.<br />
Uhm. Wow. This post is embarrassing.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHe6DpvCd1pTyYDL7jV3_jHtDjxhJMzM6yVGM-GH6T5U94zkfE5qLXlEjoP9D-m3u3Vpw46DMEvViIoMdj3DniL9EaxQH4Pd3jyQ1E2jN1Lph2Hg4HcuhiYKcFfCCBrIZs04phlgR9fx4T/s1600/zumba45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHe6DpvCd1pTyYDL7jV3_jHtDjxhJMzM6yVGM-GH6T5U94zkfE5qLXlEjoP9D-m3u3Vpw46DMEvViIoMdj3DniL9EaxQH4Pd3jyQ1E2jN1Lph2Hg4HcuhiYKcFfCCBrIZs04phlgR9fx4T/s400/zumba45.jpg" width="245" /></a><br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a>, I totally forgot you weren't American until you commented on our accents. And my bed doesn't usually look like that. The mattress is actually in another room because of Cassie and Anna both sleeping over. Haha<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. I want hair like that last chickie. It's pretty.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-25009462649471735862011-07-03T10:24:00.000-07:002011-07-03T10:24:42.560-07:00The day before yesterday, I only had a cookie.A small cookie.<br />
Probably only sixty calories.<br />
We walked enough to burn that, though.<br />
Cassie and Anna spent the night.<br />
It was great.<br />
Also, it would mean to world to Anna if you guys watched her<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7yJIu-mL2M"> lame video of her XD-ing. </a>It's seven seconds and you'll make a fourteen-year-old really happy.<br />
I'm shamelessly advertising her and my youtube account.<br />
Pleasee because even if you hate it, the views go up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a> I actually had a load of fun doing my crunches. C=Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-59337437630075264522011-07-01T11:40:00.000-07:002011-07-01T11:40:35.901-07:00So so so, Alex has had TWO cups of coffee today and decided....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PHpkej03XPZjnGqF-02cNheuGjhTecvx0JhmrSNRT6dyvxP3pzXEaWksHmRTKBRbhLy-IcnXYN6gWkOugWABxuSOc7gELONizL2IkAvAlNw77mOLoMZfD4U6IKyhOK5eDMDD-BLB4PFF/s1600/Day+of+Silence+cards%252C+English+and+Spanish.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PHpkej03XPZjnGqF-02cNheuGjhTecvx0JhmrSNRT6dyvxP3pzXEaWksHmRTKBRbhLy-IcnXYN6gWkOugWABxuSOc7gELONizL2IkAvAlNw77mOLoMZfD4U6IKyhOK5eDMDD-BLB4PFF/s640/Day+of+Silence+cards%252C+English+and+Spanish.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>She is participating in next year's<a href="http://www.dayofsilence.org/"> Day Of Silence</a>. It's national date next year is April 20. It's a Friday, so I'll want to speak so much. Alex believes in change, though. I'll not speak a word. Maybe I won't even blog about it until the next day. Alex is really excited about it. She's scared, though. Who will decide to hate her for it? Hopefully no one. Who will change their minds and love her for it? That I don't know. <br />
I'm excited. Really excited. Uber excited.<br />
I dunno what else to say... Really, honestly. I'm excited because this will be the first time I planned to stand up for something I believe in. It's...AMAZING.<br />
I'm freezing cold, though.<br />
I probably shouldn't be so excited.XD Haha.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-76085978280074813922011-07-01T08:16:00.000-07:002011-07-01T08:16:03.314-07:00Coffee and Lemonade<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cgtZNy1teJUbYSEFNNDyyuVFyl5ipaYi8luFSxPd8bzMHxjdjnK0kIqJZr8UOrwMGqEzHowgy850kQQwXm78y9KMhEZCDnaBcbjCMFg7pVib_eXRvyFGDwNseCsq0thLq_gSW76iLotA/s1600/220px-Eminem_at_DJ_hero_party_with_d12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cgtZNy1teJUbYSEFNNDyyuVFyl5ipaYi8luFSxPd8bzMHxjdjnK0kIqJZr8UOrwMGqEzHowgy850kQQwXm78y9KMhEZCDnaBcbjCMFg7pVib_eXRvyFGDwNseCsq0thLq_gSW76iLotA/s1600/220px-Eminem_at_DJ_hero_party_with_d12.jpg" /></a>I mix my lemonade (five calories) with my coffee (about two, if we're honest). It keeps my stomach calmer. It feels pretty good to have something in my stomach. I wanna make it last, because it's the last lemonade we had. Oh well, I need my caffeine fix and now I also have to drink the lemonade if I want it.<br />
Caffeine is amazing on an empty stomach. It works so fast. Had me dancing in the kitchen to Eminem. It was pretty dang epix.<br />
Today's post has three people I will listen today. As a definite. Eminem, who I listened to while dancing around my kitchen, Colette Carr, who I listened to while typing this, and All Time Low, who I'll end up listening to later. Yeah... I listen to some fun music. It's just because I feel like dancing today.<br />
Also, I'm planning on not eating anything other than dinner today. I hope I can go without eating even that. Because we eat around eight (late dinner) and I'm leaving around seven thirty, like I do every Friday. So maybe I'll be able to get by with just coffee today?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUCmapc44DdcofExmaMVTSisly_SiHEmfKwKrYjWOCY-3sqvWB4m68PHrpyH-UlJwYQxBPmaEaa0yeJntT9nV60dGcU058qslL1mNmIlv4zY8A_Jsn7McgF5UR66oMzOCtX0aJq1RCKjP/s1600/Colette_Carr_We+Do_It_Primo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUCmapc44DdcofExmaMVTSisly_SiHEmfKwKrYjWOCY-3sqvWB4m68PHrpyH-UlJwYQxBPmaEaa0yeJntT9nV60dGcU058qslL1mNmIlv4zY8A_Jsn7McgF5UR66oMzOCtX0aJq1RCKjP/s320/Colette_Carr_We+Do_It_Primo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> Alrigght, I'm not sure what I'll do today. Some crunches? All day? Haha, I don't have the ab strength. But I do see crunches in my future. But not running because I don't want to make myself anymore gross than I am. I'll end up doing crunches for a minute so I'll be negative (for a net). Ok! For me, at 129 (hopefully) I'd burn 16 calories for two minute of crunches. I'm pretty sure I can do that. Hopefully. But one minute burns eight, which places me still negative. Just less negative. Alright... We'll do a minute of crunches and then half a minute of push ups (because I've got fat arms and can't do much longer). That'd be twelve calories, but focusing on two different sets of muscles.<br />
<br />
I love caffeine. Without it, I wouldn't have been able to do that math. See, with the medication I'm on and the empty stomach I have, I'm kinda sensitive to coffee. Because it has more caffeine that soda, I guess? Ahhh~ Coffee.<br />
Alrights~ I'm off to find a song to go and work out to. I'm thinking...That Girl by ATL.<br />
Have a good day, everyone. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIn_Xih6X2ZHAVl3SxW44DA3C9vCTvftkuAYArILgpCRhXFQYUJg1TlTC1gokRrOVwQYRmxhoVa8di9I5qVqX8Ld3Cu_keepZHRYA15emCl8GEGwpwzatNgQS043IJN70Fsp0clYWTpLn/s1600/AllTimeLow5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIn_Xih6X2ZHAVl3SxW44DA3C9vCTvftkuAYArILgpCRhXFQYUJg1TlTC1gokRrOVwQYRmxhoVa8di9I5qVqX8Ld3Cu_keepZHRYA15emCl8GEGwpwzatNgQS043IJN70Fsp0clYWTpLn/s320/AllTimeLow5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-16195372088361336212011-06-30T19:27:00.000-07:002011-06-30T19:27:51.049-07:00Sorry for being MIA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqp1u5VpvYfI68T6kkwoRjCNHPmGWoHsyvEqO3nC53pZhzAGvmmaq3fhfOx27M3KdjifltcSfMdShFmxkCzvumdICcx4vZiH5R2IToT8SYSs31ZX_la5JIYIF_eAd-aEELegAhdeRiBqd/s1600/Ava30.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqp1u5VpvYfI68T6kkwoRjCNHPmGWoHsyvEqO3nC53pZhzAGvmmaq3fhfOx27M3KdjifltcSfMdShFmxkCzvumdICcx4vZiH5R2IToT8SYSs31ZX_la5JIYIF_eAd-aEELegAhdeRiBqd/s320/Ava30.gif" width="320" /></a></div> I just don't know what to say anymore.<br />
One of my friends, E.S., confirmed my worst fear.<br />
I'm in love.<br />
She makes my heart race, my throat tries to close up around her, but I love it when she smiles and laughs because of me.<br />
She makes me want to hold her and not let go for a long time.<br />
But she's straight and, it doesn't matter what my sexuality is, that won't change.<br />
It's okay.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXC-J6Oz5XGQN0kAsoGo6izBZeZlQHmYdmOaVm3eeMs2mGQ0NeicuDWufOqCfbHBOsROZRsUI0rGP8QqYCVO-LXCqgnBUE09Hhvp6ZWsaFRj8cwiqP7LRtgMslX22zVpbqPnPxhh_85aww/s1600/photo_of_confused_quotes-49178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXC-J6Oz5XGQN0kAsoGo6izBZeZlQHmYdmOaVm3eeMs2mGQ0NeicuDWufOqCfbHBOsROZRsUI0rGP8QqYCVO-LXCqgnBUE09Hhvp6ZWsaFRj8cwiqP7LRtgMslX22zVpbqPnPxhh_85aww/s320/photo_of_confused_quotes-49178.jpg" width="254" /></a>She's beautiful.<br />
And if I got too much closer, she may realize that I'm nothing more than a mess.<br />
She'd realize that I only had two, medium-sized pancakes with some syrup(252), a mango and pineapple smoothie from McDonald's(210), a small cinnamon roll(180), some chips(probably 10) and a donut from Casey's(315, gag!).<br />
She'd realize that it's under 1000 calories(967, to be exact), because I'd be compelled to tell her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a>, I've been told not to tell my dad until I'm out of the house, but if he's seen my sceensaver on my computer, he knows I'm not exactly straight...or really into gay and bi pride. Haha. <br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. No more donuts. They be unhealthy and wasted calories.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHXLyEqkWWCIAJW0-3m2TnD352Zeql8NT1PiHk9A3n1FvGE2fEQa3IdmmsLpE7hAR30vLbC3n0adB66lnvJhZoFCcRhKld0yyNvO4JfJQrqBdwQnwn4qdWSOVJP6KHsd8jfVF4fPZ0Owk/s1600/bleedinglove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHXLyEqkWWCIAJW0-3m2TnD352Zeql8NT1PiHk9A3n1FvGE2fEQa3IdmmsLpE7hAR30vLbC3n0adB66lnvJhZoFCcRhKld0yyNvO4JfJQrqBdwQnwn4qdWSOVJP6KHsd8jfVF4fPZ0Owk/s320/bleedinglove.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-65698227386662741382011-06-25T23:09:00.000-07:002011-06-25T23:10:58.620-07:00Still Alive<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0pFByTccpp54MWX90zqrrv-95foHtQm-ghNhjp4l523GJAeMdBehIhphP-GdXlh8sdZDFi6QkeFLX3_KhURFeQmh58TmBT3LM8-pLhsWSUYbhMB_ejSbJKJBKzTzCtZRMjs6XPS7oogp/s1600/pridebi.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0pFByTccpp54MWX90zqrrv-95foHtQm-ghNhjp4l523GJAeMdBehIhphP-GdXlh8sdZDFi6QkeFLX3_KhURFeQmh58TmBT3LM8-pLhsWSUYbhMB_ejSbJKJBKzTzCtZRMjs6XPS7oogp/s400/pridebi.png" width="400" /></a>And I told her. She'll tell Dad.<br />
I may not be alive then.<br />
I'm happy though.<br />
Kinda numb too.<br />
I've been worrying, almost puking, all day.<br />
Just to be told that she loves me even if I consider myself bisexual.<br />
I wanted to correct her.<br />
I don't consider myself it.<br />
I AM.<br />
But I wasn't pushing my luck.<br />
I'm so happy.<br />
Lovely.<br />
That's how this is.<br />
Hey, it's technically a day before my birthday, too.<br />
Awesome!<br />
Happy early birthday, me.<br />
She kinda wondered when I said I was gonna ask the teachers to call me Alex.<br />
Alex can be a girl name. :/<br />
She said she'd even love me if I considered myself transgender.<br />
Whatever, so long as she isn't kicking me out into the storm.<br />
I'm excited. Totally.<br />
Cassie was there, spiritually, the whole time.<br />
I'm falling even more for that woman.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. Mommy was really happy I told her, too. Even said that most kids wouldn't tell their parents if they thought they were.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-69134504218196757862011-06-25T05:19:00.000-07:002011-06-25T05:19:49.543-07:00I wanna tell my mom...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeczMVigRlOdsHQIgFtOJEJ9Z3lKVj-Tj5ibwOQqMWY6TwXL6zKF3faQH9f_TCa7kKP_Pl-zNc1CJTR2TgnVGO_SNKPUB7LtHrCePdi1Brp8KQ3rz7nIpzPJgrgVrv7cApVucDbRgMQRo2/s1600/thsudscooper_32.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeczMVigRlOdsHQIgFtOJEJ9Z3lKVj-Tj5ibwOQqMWY6TwXL6zKF3faQH9f_TCa7kKP_Pl-zNc1CJTR2TgnVGO_SNKPUB7LtHrCePdi1Brp8KQ3rz7nIpzPJgrgVrv7cApVucDbRgMQRo2/s1600/thsudscooper_32.png" /></a>I want to come out, tell her I'm the only not straight child she has.<br />
I want to, really, honestly, but I don't want to see her cry.<br />
I love my mommy.<br />
She says she loves me.<br />
I don't know if I would be able to stand it if she started hating me because I'm bi and had the nerve to tell her.<br />
I actually started tearing up at the thought. I'm terrified that she'll hate me.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEbHyb5Kll9-crhqkbO-R-3-NAA0aJ_ZqpWwmSEaHviDGeFLeUtx_luesAPuP9MCIRGh2tNsKVioS2oYE99S0X9OvDV-s-e9Ql0iBGjR5xQ7BwqBYe9R6y-F8R-AuVe-LORIvKN384Psv/s1600/IMG_0536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEbHyb5Kll9-crhqkbO-R-3-NAA0aJ_ZqpWwmSEaHviDGeFLeUtx_luesAPuP9MCIRGh2tNsKVioS2oYE99S0X9OvDV-s-e9Ql0iBGjR5xQ7BwqBYe9R6y-F8R-AuVe-LORIvKN384Psv/s320/IMG_0536.jpg" width="320" /></a>I'm turning fifteen in days.<br />
I don't know if I should tell her.<br />
Will she just think it's a phase?<br />
What if I told her that I loved my best friend from before we met?<br />
I hate this<br />
Why can't I walk in there and go "I'm fuckin bisexual! Deal with it!" and move on with life?<br />
Why does it have to be hard?<br />
I love that I am.<br />
It makes me feel that I'm open to being loved more.<br />
Would she not only hate me but blame herself??<br />
I wanna think I'm fine with being bi, but how can I be when I can't even tell my mom?<br />
I can tell all my friends, tell you guys, let myself smile even as I think it...but I can't storm out there and go "Mommy, I'm bi."<br />
Three words. I can't do it.<br />
"Mom, I love you. And I'm bi."<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3DzTD7uOHqVjheXg_C6sqworEZtqmxQtlanuenQmOt_MPmoh2hnc-LvSHzN6YjunnzoYALfCllRschb2TxFmYxZYMyKujREjIskTwGAyzwQXrwx-66E1p8pZ09En0angqUrIZkJ4tvw9/s1600/mojo-photo-gaymusic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3DzTD7uOHqVjheXg_C6sqworEZtqmxQtlanuenQmOt_MPmoh2hnc-LvSHzN6YjunnzoYALfCllRschb2TxFmYxZYMyKujREjIskTwGAyzwQXrwx-66E1p8pZ09En0angqUrIZkJ4tvw9/s1600/mojo-photo-gaymusic.jpg" /></a>"Hey, Mom, can we talk? Uhm, I know you're a good Christian mom, and your kids reflect you, but I just wanted you to know, I'm bi."<br />
"Mom, it's my birthday and I wanted you to know that I'm bi. It's taken me a year to decide how to tell you."<br />
"Mom, remember that month J.P. lived with us? We were dating. I'm bi."<br />
So many ways to say it...only I don't know how to.<br />
My Anna is bisexual and knows her family would disown her.<br />
They're hardcore.<br />
"Mom, you know how I'm a vegetarian? I'm also bi."<br />
Although they have nothing to do with each other.<br />
"Hi, Mom, I'm bi." *walk away quickly*<br />
Now I'm thinking of humorous ways to do it. :/<br />
Fail.<br />
AlexFail.<br />
I'm gonna do this.<br />
Even if it is on the way to our shopping trip and not today.<br />
"Mom, I'm turning fifteen soon and I want you to know I love you very much, but I'm also bi. You need to know this. I would like it if you could accept it, too."<br />
Maybe that would work.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a>: I'm sorry. On the preview it doesn't show the follow button either. Weirddd.I wish I knew any way to help, but I just can't think of anything.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. I can do this. I know I can. No doubts anymore more. I'll sit down with her while she's trying to write her paper and just...tell her. I can do this.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-78438119776244315882011-06-24T20:25:00.000-07:002011-06-24T20:25:47.742-07:00I hate this.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuwrKGHhQHzmyV29m7jKG_vB45F4QUGMebd__lFB-DfMKWIYB-11C5xnlWMIH9NctZcJTs5bEf5-wOy6Nuzu9sXMFG2TzVneex470wA1BbxlTpHXEs598-8aR7qOWQH30J5Em6PC7I12m/s1600/Juno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuwrKGHhQHzmyV29m7jKG_vB45F4QUGMebd__lFB-DfMKWIYB-11C5xnlWMIH9NctZcJTs5bEf5-wOy6Nuzu9sXMFG2TzVneex470wA1BbxlTpHXEs598-8aR7qOWQH30J5Em6PC7I12m/s320/Juno.jpg" width="223" /></a>Cassie has so much control over me without even realizing it.<br />
I love her enough to eat.<br />
I love her enough to not cut.<br />
I love her to the point I'm excited for the texts.<br />
I hate that I love her enough that I'm almost crying because GUESS FUCKING WHAT, I LOVE YOU AS A FRIEND is basically what she told me the other day.<br />
She said she had to tell me that she loves me because she tells Anna all the time.<br />
We're like a family.<br />
Except I love her. <br />
It's stupid, masochistic, tiring,<br />
so why can't I just let it go?<br />
Am I hoping?<br />
How far can hope get you?<br />
Not far because it's so fragile.<br />
Everything, it seems, crushes it like the wuss it is.<br />
<br />
I don't want to think about what I've eaten today.<br />
Because Lexi and Alex would both agree.<br />
Meaning I probably went over 500, but did it unhealthily.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2qBsnqQtTa74aD7yLedJowjIyqPKT0qY_AWiys3qGY_z3K16jADGABxMnJwRdzDFTAGz8c5T496fa8l7EBKhZ_b30_XjaaIWwp0PH1mVkfJrhDbg0pH-y-jM0vF6MOaPN6J4hmRXdgd0/s1600/tumblr_l3i732LFaP1qbkoy6o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2qBsnqQtTa74aD7yLedJowjIyqPKT0qY_AWiys3qGY_z3K16jADGABxMnJwRdzDFTAGz8c5T496fa8l7EBKhZ_b30_XjaaIWwp0PH1mVkfJrhDbg0pH-y-jM0vF6MOaPN6J4hmRXdgd0/s1600/tumblr_l3i732LFaP1qbkoy6o1_500.jpg" /></a><a href="http://dreaming-skinny.blogspot.com/">Lottie</a>: I decided to pretend forgive her. She mentioned being almost suicidal because of it and I do not want anyone's death on my conscience. I just don't know if it really was the right thing to do because there's no way we can actually go back being OH MY GOTH, YOU'RE AWESOME!<br />
There's too much pain there.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. I hate posting about love here.<br />
P.S.S. Alex has made ANOTHER blog. This one is all things I want to say to Cassie (who I'll tell the real name of there) but don't have the balls to do. It is.... <a href="http://luffyoutoomuch.blogspot.com/">I Want You To Know</a>. I was totally inspired by <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07626253944826196752">Rachael</a>'s <a href="http://suicidlecupcake.blogspot.com/">Letters To Kelsey</a>. I guess you don't have to read it, but it is gonna be my favorite of my blogs. HahaAlex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-3016025062092122011-06-21T12:20:00.000-07:002011-06-21T12:20:08.624-07:00Soooo....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiFki9czczHHzEZ_2M8iitSu8O6RJE07QPO3m7O5kQbmXBk8zhITlbZrcdpDZRYHQgP09eu0-SPBbFP1X4EF8zB0I_Ii6_a-vCDeH3t-5dtFJde8rygPJn31AZG0T1fnsM7JZmuvXB6ang/s1600/6df0655c87397b6a_0_quotes_being_happy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiFki9czczHHzEZ_2M8iitSu8O6RJE07QPO3m7O5kQbmXBk8zhITlbZrcdpDZRYHQgP09eu0-SPBbFP1X4EF8zB0I_Ii6_a-vCDeH3t-5dtFJde8rygPJn31AZG0T1fnsM7JZmuvXB6ang/s400/6df0655c87397b6a_0_quotes_being_happy.gif" width="400" /></a></div>I stared at this post, all blank and stuff. I couldn't think of anything to post, just that I should.<br />
But what is there to say anymore? It's all been said before.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbq0JtEECSewJTVbKZq0B0t1Vh7sWseHeeUTgN_3hVXRgwVkOhXv2PqyEDakaZMGIboLfoT4SSOeD3PoQ_nXHZAxVMH24SWK4UzHsgvtrb0LwywQKYANnU2TezejsBdUCw71Gi249QvcE/s1600/emo-quotes-33.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbq0JtEECSewJTVbKZq0B0t1Vh7sWseHeeUTgN_3hVXRgwVkOhXv2PqyEDakaZMGIboLfoT4SSOeD3PoQ_nXHZAxVMH24SWK4UzHsgvtrb0LwywQKYANnU2TezejsBdUCw71Gi249QvcE/s400/emo-quotes-33.png" width="400" /></a>I'm in love with a straight chick who would hate herself if she wasn't.<br />
My best friend is basically oblivious that I'm ever actually upset.<br />
My mom's decided to become very discriminating lately<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DuAESCHKD8s4MUzEmhGhvtp6_v57PnBpYcI2iosG6nEXccaXneSBu3r-Mdkvs7vbLnU6R_r8tMNVPQwAVKN3xPi8l4h8HF92EtXc3MuP-jxN8vSHx0PjWn3Fw9c6X8is6_zpnG29mbGj/s1600/1267563452_9882_full.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DuAESCHKD8s4MUzEmhGhvtp6_v57PnBpYcI2iosG6nEXccaXneSBu3r-Mdkvs7vbLnU6R_r8tMNVPQwAVKN3xPi8l4h8HF92EtXc3MuP-jxN8vSHx0PjWn3Fw9c6X8is6_zpnG29mbGj/s320/1267563452_9882_full.gif" width="320" /></a></div>My dad asks me if I puke my food. <br />
My brothers are hardly part of my life.<br />
Hey, Cassie, can you make me feel like I have someone I'm close to.<br />
Oh, wait, I do have some news. <br />
E.S., who is now on the People tab, came to me, begging for my forgiveness, saying that she still thinks of me as a sister.<br />
I never thought of her like that.<br />
She told <u><b>me</b></u> that J.P. lies.<br />
I dealt with J.P. for six years, but apparently didn't know that.<br />
She begged for my forgiveness for hours.<br />
I hate begging, but needed sleep.<br />
So I said that I need time to heal and that if she's willing to deal with me while I do, then she deserves to hang out with me when I am all healed up.<br />
She also tried to tell me that J.P. was nicer now.<br />
I say <strike><b>bullshit. </b></strike>that's great.<br />
People like J.P. are manipulative and brats and can't change.<br />
She said J.P. left me to see if I would fall.<br />
I'm stronger than both of them.<br />
See these fuckin scars E.S.?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt9NyW_-Tg_iu5j5jfAbt-poqkTPTxUCxftUXRpmhPza0fghzOhF8_rIVeA1beQMQ9Ura7w3gupOCfla1a6I9vW0Wvt7gY9bmmHeg_PH5ahnrUXHgXo7Gjtj4Ouz1lzUn0kyOZ7yXUdyq/s1600/1269544991_1216_full.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt9NyW_-Tg_iu5j5jfAbt-poqkTPTxUCxftUXRpmhPza0fghzOhF8_rIVeA1beQMQ9Ura7w3gupOCfla1a6I9vW0Wvt7gY9bmmHeg_PH5ahnrUXHgXo7Gjtj4Ouz1lzUn0kyOZ7yXUdyq/s320/1269544991_1216_full.jpeg" width="320" /></a>You helped the ones on my arm appear.<br />
J.P. caused that amount of stress that caused me to first pick up the glass, to first torture myself.<br />
Now, guess what?<br />
I'm stronger than how you two left me. Colder, maybe, but also stronger.<br />
I can tell you no.<br />
I can scream at you for ticking me off.<br />
I can, and probably will, remind you of your mistakes.<br />
Because I doubt you've ever been suicidal.<br />
I almost was, once...Okay, a few times.<br />
I imagined how all that blood would feel exiting my body.<br />
But I have too much to live for after this lame high school.<br />
Too much life.<br />
Long post... Bleh.Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-30403444636422313352011-06-20T20:15:00.000-07:002011-06-20T20:15:50.643-07:00I've only had one meal...and few snacks.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNkoOk6CikPEGdZRiGrrhbS1sur0YXF5l3CLQEZbeqU-ip0VClco4MdRNYyW8EgC-3rIkfMrfBftO9gyJVOSFe5UN_oyjsl1hcrQ18pg8X3Q83qZs6-wCx2xyO0fVypA3fCHZBP3g9TzQ/s1600/teen-vogue-my-funny-valentine-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNkoOk6CikPEGdZRiGrrhbS1sur0YXF5l3CLQEZbeqU-ip0VClco4MdRNYyW8EgC-3rIkfMrfBftO9gyJVOSFe5UN_oyjsl1hcrQ18pg8X3Q83qZs6-wCx2xyO0fVypA3fCHZBP3g9TzQ/s320/teen-vogue-my-funny-valentine-3.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-QB0earKBUIkdp3bzDG20s_OJU48sx9z5RiyY9i8qfrXGGFDyrbndfvsE50cf7sAECn1Qvyr4OOEDvkaGvjGsPfDFe6is5dCEQ0A5yvDyv0aMD_dZSDkZ3nF7bnGclGHXlsXtSL_Fwr77/s1600/933_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-QB0earKBUIkdp3bzDG20s_OJU48sx9z5RiyY9i8qfrXGGFDyrbndfvsE50cf7sAECn1Qvyr4OOEDvkaGvjGsPfDFe6is5dCEQ0A5yvDyv0aMD_dZSDkZ3nF7bnGclGHXlsXtSL_Fwr77/s320/933_large.jpg" width="320" /></a>I'm guessing I'm under 800, at the most.<br />
Really, I don't know what's up anymore. Where's down? How am I?<br />
Am I healthy? Am I ill?<br />
Should I be taking these pills (the drugs they put me on)? Should I let them go?<br />
<br />
My wrist is terribly scarred. My right one feels left out.<br />
Am I really alive?<br />
Or is this a trick?<br />
Is this really my heartbeat? Or is it yours?<br />
To seem more sane, I'm going to tell facts.<br />
Cassie told me she worries she's gay or bi...everyday.<br />
She said she'd hate herself if she was.<br />
I cried.<br />
It felt like someone was ripping out my soul. <br />
It's because, the reason she worries, is because she had a crush on me...in the past.<br />
I told her to forget it if it was such a problem.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydsqtKninS3hYrpAjo0EiVUk6WARI1jLftKiIjkF7wNYkby6LgmGXo8QSkNWh0qzU-LUvLVc6DsCxKc0b6EaOobJJHmFqvIIPLj8tFHlqmNYB6Ay3Gq9r_q2FyUmADPBJ-bEhlVmpJo_V/s1600/avril-lavigne_147055788_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydsqtKninS3hYrpAjo0EiVUk6WARI1jLftKiIjkF7wNYkby6LgmGXo8QSkNWh0qzU-LUvLVc6DsCxKc0b6EaOobJJHmFqvIIPLj8tFHlqmNYB6Ay3Gq9r_q2FyUmADPBJ-bEhlVmpJo_V/s320/avril-lavigne_147055788_large.jpg" width="320" /></a>I told her to think of things that made her happy, let me worry about the shit that slits throats if you don't worry about it.<br />
I told her it was awful to hate yourself based on which gender you're attracted to.<br />
My heart broke.<br />
Yet I was reminded why I say I love her.<br />
She makes me feel. Period.<br />
No one makes me feel as much as she can.<br />
Next time I see her, I'll want to kiss her.<br />
I know because I wanted to the last time.<br />
But I'll restrain. Because she's Cassie and she's straight. And she'll never be mine. Because life is like that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagRTN0N4wX7SsJ_qoL9HiOTWtQY1H69FtVoAUAeMEjZs8fqfdzQiFTq0nRK9Htli5xK1K-I3znFb-4-z-r9T5f1kgcU8ZN7W-zfkjaIhJJQiLwJFXgk10_hm3f04M9KD2fV6JLQFQi3Dc/s1600/Ava36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagRTN0N4wX7SsJ_qoL9HiOTWtQY1H69FtVoAUAeMEjZs8fqfdzQiFTq0nRK9Htli5xK1K-I3znFb-4-z-r9T5f1kgcU8ZN7W-zfkjaIhJJQiLwJFXgk10_hm3f04M9KD2fV6JLQFQi3Dc/s320/Ava36.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Life hates me sometimes. <br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://fivefaintfootsteps.blogspot.com/">Kes</a></b>: I don't really care that your comment was really long. It made me feel less alone. It was awesome. ^^Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236604674266533078.post-59521465836909507742011-06-19T07:05:00.001-07:002011-06-19T07:05:59.631-07:00This post is from a text message, so it sucks. But I just want you guys to know that to me, Anna and Cassie seemed like angels. Only, I guess once you go through hell you can't be an angel. But they're one thousand times stranger than I am. <br>Last night, I told Cassie that she doesn't deserve the questions her dad was ask, the way he was talking bad about her mom, none of his fucking drunk talk. Only I didn't cuss. I hate drinking like you wouldn't believe. Anyway, I said I wished I could say the right thing, do the right thing, just to make her happier. I mean, I love her. She's one of the most amazing parts of my world...And I can't do anything, but sit back and watch.<br>Alright, post about life from Anna's house. I'm sorry for pouring all this on you guys. :/Alex Accursedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504947260512487135noreply@blogger.com0