starving oneself seems like the perfect terrible way to punish yourself, and i somehow feel today like punishing myself. not an uncommon sensation really, and it isn't as though i have not done it before. it's fun, in a sick, sick way, to see just how long you can go without eating anything, and still function, before just the thought of food makes you ill. all of which makes me sound more than a little anorexic, which i probably am, just the curviest one you have ever seen. actually ice cream sounds really good right now, but i prefer i think, to sit here and listen to my stomach growling, a little self imposed torture than suits me better than more traditional methods. *those* are disapproved of. *this* one sneaks right by any modern defenses and goes right back to some medieval impulse that has decided it is really cool. a pretty basic control issue, or just saint envy. it isn't altogether unfamiliar, in the literary icons i have created or helped create either. one does not, if one pays attention, truly see rene eat anything.
the shanny bear is nearly as bad. or worse. i cannot decide. i have not done anything that deserves punishment, at least not recently, which makes it all the more puzzling i suppose, but no less satisfying.
one might, if one chose, connect this little depression fit to my birthday, which was yesterday. one could even connect it to the man some idiots made our president, but that's a stretch. it is slightly different than my usual liquid solution to this problem, i will admit to that. perhaps it is that i haven't written anything in over a month, though i wonder if it is all the result of the stupid chick lit i read this afternoon, about the effect a truly, truly decent man would have on a self loathing tortured unforgiven church type. i would not know of course, i have not met one. and those who do, do not share i suppose. rene certainly doesn't. my little monkey.
as usual, i don't know where i'm going with this. and will probably ignore it tomorrow. i suggest everyone else do the same. go back to focusing on kittie and her "real life dyke drama" which is apparently different from real life drama of any other type.
the shanny bear is nearly as bad. or worse. i cannot decide. i have not done anything that deserves punishment, at least not recently, which makes it all the more puzzling i suppose, but no less satisfying.
one might, if one chose, connect this little depression fit to my birthday, which was yesterday. one could even connect it to the man some idiots made our president, but that's a stretch. it is slightly different than my usual liquid solution to this problem, i will admit to that. perhaps it is that i haven't written anything in over a month, though i wonder if it is all the result of the stupid chick lit i read this afternoon, about the effect a truly, truly decent man would have on a self loathing tortured unforgiven church type. i would not know of course, i have not met one. and those who do, do not share i suppose. rene certainly doesn't. my little monkey.
as usual, i don't know where i'm going with this. and will probably ignore it tomorrow. i suggest everyone else do the same. go back to focusing on kittie and her "real life dyke drama" which is apparently different from real life drama of any other type.
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