Today has been grim; I've felt pathetically tragic for most of it. I feel a growing desperate need to get out of myself, and soon. If all goes to plan, most of next week will be a messy blur with the amount of substances I'm purchasing for a few days up in England somewhere. I might even die. I don't want to though, because I don't want to die feeling fat. How impossibly vain.
I hope one day I feel good enough to be happy.
I don't know that I ever will.
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