In their attempts to neatly categorize my developmental state, most people misconstrue and distort my ambivalent but unambiguous love for my father. Today, over yam tempura the texture of orange, blistered skin, perhaps a sunburn, my oily lips fatten & deify my father with steadfast sincerity only possible when bathing in matcha under chilly spring ( Read more... )

y a-t-il une raison ( Read more... )

Is it really going to be like this forever? This perpetual puffing of the eyes, this unending stream of salt and water--shit fuck I'm tired of choking on my own fucking snot ( Read more... )

Reconciliation with Emily. I thought about it in the shower. Hot water always calms me down.

I'm not sad about the way I look anymore. The past few days were strange. The caloric obsessions. The exercise. The fear of eating full meals. The fear of fat ( Read more... )

People are so full of blame sometimes. Like Wanda. She is my trainer for the fundraising position. We had spoken on the telephone earlier today, and I gave her my address, so that we could meet at 3. As I hung up, I realized that I had forgotten to confirm with her whether to meet outside, or to wait until she called-I live in an apartment building ( Read more... )

Today I was walking home. I run into this kid who's kicking around a lunchbox. It almost hits my face. I scream fuck. He looks at me, slightly shocked. I walk a few more steps, anger boiling.

DON'T FUCKING KICK SHIT IN PEOPLE'S FACES!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

I HATE YOU. I HATE ME. I HATE EVERY FUCKING ONE OF YOU.

Today is a bad day. Everyday is  ( Read more... )

 A fleeting obsession, a passing fury--cutting green beans. The cleaver is heavy. After all, it is the family heirloom. God, only the impoverished Chinese peasants on the countryside would think of this--a loaded cleaver passing from generation to generation. Here son! Here is the gift of food! It only makes sense, as the Chinese have been starved ( Read more... )

Am I nervous, or is it just the caffeine? Must leave for school in nine minutes. God. I feel fucked over. Nothing looks right. Apprehension racks my body. I don't even know fucking why I'm nervous! Maybe I just want to avoid people.

this year, I want to be the kid who never talks.

"Worse still, you don't even show an atom of shame or remorse."
"Why should I? I've done nothing to be ashamed of. I am not ashamed--I am only beaten."

"Pray that your sin of intention, as well as your other sins, may be forgiven."
"I shall pray," she said. "Yes, I shall pray." She paused, then she went on, her voice steady and harder. "I shall pray ( Read more... )