This Is the Diary of A Girl

I'm sick! So shall I throw-up now?

Thursday, Sept. 19, 2002 @ 20:45

I'm not sick.
I'm completely stressed out. Gone. It's not me anymore!
Boys mocking people, thinking and proving their the best in the world.
Girls comparing sizes, breast sizes, exchanging clothing, beautying each other. All preparing for the welcome back dance tonight.
I don't even know if I'll go to the this stupid welcome back dance. The Survivor Thailand is starting tonight also and I really want to watch it. So we'll see if I go to the stupid dance.

Okay, so I'm not sick like I said. And yeah, I'm stupid enough to start throwing-up again. Too much now. And I've noticed that when I throw-up the previous night that I don't feel hungry at all in the mornings. Hmmm, Am I doing it right? No, that's a rhetical question. I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't! Be throwing-up! That's just not being true to who I am. It's grose, and disgusting. Nasty! The bad thing is, it get easier for me to throw-up. My throat gets more sensative, and it can get very adicting unfortunately. My body doesn't digest the food, it waits there to be thrown back up. Okay, no more detales.

I really want this fucking bitch to leave me alone! Stop watching me! My every move! What I eat! Fuck off! Gosh, go away!
She's taking over one of my best friends, giving her shirts, lingerie, and friendship things. How my friend could be so sucked up. I can't believe it! Does she like all the gossiping with the bitch? Ugh, I don't want to know. I just don't care to know anymore. The bitch is like an attention seeking fucking dog! It's pittyful! Doesn't anybody notice that?
I know they're both going to the dance tonight. I shan't get annoyed, huh? I probably won't go anyway.

Besides, I have a lot to get to anyway like: math seventy questions, and for english a narrative whitch I don't have an idea of what to write about yet.

Jenna

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