There's Something Interesting About The Absence Of Existence.

There's something interesting about the absence of existence.

I came into this world and I'm not allowed to leave. Why is living so difficult? And why is death so ironic?

I wish I wasn't so hungry all the time. And I'm not talking about physical nourishment.

I don't know who I am.

I was supposed to be small, pretty and girly. But I'm just disgusting. I have grown. I'm not his little princess anymore.

I'm not me anymore. I'm not who I was supposed to be, And I'm not who I truly am.

Headache and weakness are good signs. It's working.

I need to stop and take control of myself, of my life, of things... I'm stained by sin again and I can't seem to stop and drive myself to the Lord.

I just hope He won't give up on me...

My physical is shaking, no kidding. Damn. I definitely will get addicted to coffe, I can tell.

And here I am, about to eat like a pig again.

(Still not satisfied.)