26 September 2009

You Know You're Sick When:

You go to visit your dying grandmother in the hospital, who has cancer related anorexia and only weighs about eighty-five pounds; you find yourselve looking at her arms, grey, her blue veins tied up in knots around her meatless bones, and you feel a pang of jealousy.

You ask yourself: Why can't I be that thin?

And then you realize just how messed up and sick you are.
So you go into bathroom down the hall and cry.

Love you,
Margie.

3 comments:

  1. im sorry about your grandma. Try not too feel too bad, your not sick!
    xx

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  2. umm, yeah. i know. i find myself looking at legs all the time and finding some i LOVE and then realize they're attached to a TWELVE-YEAR-OLD. fucked in the head, what?

    anyway, HELLO! i'm excited you commented on my blog because you seem pretty awesome (as i am reading your old posts) and when you mentioned a class on 2d design, i went, OH GOD that brings me back, because i went to a serious art school for a year where i was actually a bit of a fraud (there for writing, not art), but a fraud with some artwork that turned out surprisingly good. anyway, i took a combination 2d/3d design class (3 days a week, 6 hours a day) which made me cry. A LOT. but in retrospect i am very glad i took it and had some, um, fun in it. so you will see why that brought up some little memories! so, yay! also we have similar stats although i am a bit fattier (which i feel like spelling with an i, so deal with it), so i can safely and realistically say that you are VERY THIN! woop woop!

    LOVE xxx

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  3. also please look at the nice curvature of the left margin of the large paragraph of my above comment! sorry i thought it was pretty and just had to point that out :D

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