shit

So I just had maybe a fist's worth of both peanut butter and brie. My thoughts run like this:
-Must buy more brie or flat mate will kill me.
-Fucking dislike the atmosphere in our flat now. I dream of living solitaire; I shall one day end my corrupt cheese-fiendish days and ripen some creamy mold of my own, unwatched by the fettered foodlords who form the bourgeoisie of my food-filled (and now fueled) imagination. Alas! Such cheesetopian ideals don't belong in a world where cheese is not bountiful, and what's more is not mine.
-She really is going to fucking hurt you for being such a fat greedy monster who ate all the brie.
-Right now, the remaining mouthful coalescing with your gullet would be the only spell needed to make you as popular as St. George's dragon.
-You fucking little monster you.
-I would have interesting dreams but its 5.11 am and ceebs to sleep.

Things to be chirpy about:
-I have both my legs.
-That oldish pub man said I was "bang-tidy" (apparently this makes me chirpy. Which is weird).
-seeing sister next week.

things that make you go FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK:
-probably gonna get chucked out of uni.
getting fatter and fatter and fatter.
sleeping pattern is fucked.
I have no motivation to improve. At all. It's like I want to hurt and disappoint people, just to spite them.
I think I'm depressed (although its probably mix of tiredness and deflated feeling from lack of work/praise/success/any actual fun) but refuse to take citalopram again.
-I have ulcers all over my tongue from throwing up and my naturally pointed teeth have made "holes".

"And the superstars sucked into the supermassive"

Prelimnary thoughts of today:

-Had a cup of tea, no sugar.

-Must finish this essay. Must not despair at any point.
-Things will get better; I'm sure/hoping later posts will prove this.

-To potential readers: this is written as if there were none. What is the purpose of this blog? Not to inform, inspire, be interesting in anyway. It is an online diary and place were I can vent so that I don't over eat or binge again. If you're reading this now? Go crazy, leave a comment. Or just find a better blog, there are like, millions out there. Ones about baking and fishing and art. I know!! This place is fucking amazing:

http://www.linesandcolors.com/ ^go there NOW.

-I will fucking cheer up and work till at least 4.00 :)

-Haven't seen Pete lately in all honesty. Either he knows I'm miserable (hence his work is done) or he's got problems of his own.

-Super massive black hole on radio. yes. Supermassive black hooooollle. Supermassive black hooooooole. Supermassive black hoooooooooolllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeee. SUPER MASSIVE BLACK HOLE.*is now ready to work*

I can hear the sea from my window. It's pretty sweet.

After writing that title heard someone throw up outside my window. They're alive, its a-okay!

Anyway, my stream of consciousness begins in the customary manner - not in the beginning - but in and around the middle, which is coincidentally the largest part of me nowadays (my ego having deflated in conjunction with my waistband's expansion). I can't control myself. I eat and eat then throw up then my fingers bleed (hence title. What can I say? Alliteration always amuses). My knuckles have blisters and I feel like a terrible human being.

So, my decision is to fast for at least seven days, although 14 would be better.

I need to be thin again; to be in control, to feel weightless, genderless, all powerful, but gentle, yet strong. To feel, ultimately, like a god. I like my goals attainable (Y).

Self hatred running riot now.

What else about me, considering I'm skipping the beginning and the boring?

-I sleep around.

-So far I don't have herpes.

-I like Lord of the Rings and staying up all night.

-I just ate twenty waffles.

-I was anorexic and have "issues" with food (fucking duh).

-I don't know myself at all; what I see when I strip away the layers of identification is someone not likable, and it is intolerable being her. Like, curl up pathetically in a fetal position and wish your way backwards into the womb kinda intolerable.

-I <3 cherry tobacco and want beautiful tobacco babies.

-I am currently knitting the most beautiful scarf in the whole wurld ^-^

-Lists are, evidently, ingrained in my psyche as comforting and enjoyable.

-I am seeing my sister next week. These are things to keep my spirits up and myself hopeful.

-I am very jelly and shellfish. Spent this evening breaking boy's heart. Reason? Thought of other men whilst I sucked him off.

-I am a charming person who is of value in society.

-He told me I seem unhappy, but pretending to be cheerful. Think he maybe hit the nail on the head thar, did sonny jim-sonny boy.

-I have a recurring imaginary acquaintance, who is a chain-smoking, hat-doffing, cock-stroking, society scoffing, flying griffin called Pete. He somehow manages to be a self-promoting self-defeatist who rubbishes everything I say.

-I have never told anyone this, for obvious reasons. Reasons about my sanity.

Don't know what else to say. Don't know what doing with life full-stop. Help?