i've almost touched the ridge of heaven. how long can i push. how much farther can i push my limits. the human body is not a smooth running machine like previously thought. yet i am still a robot. automatronic. thinking on my feet as fast as possible and pushing it all out. father says all my stress is at the base of my feet but i push it down further into the dirt and mud with the drug of hunger. the drugged dazed glazed over eyes of malnutrition & confusion. it takes so much and i have learned to be as in tune with my body as a guitarist is with his beautiful instrument. when one string is just a little off key you can feel it. you can tweak it just so to make the perfect sounds reverberating through space. i know the difference between one pound less and one pound more. most people don't even know the difference between emotional eating & real needfuelforliving hunger. one upside to this disgusting habit of mine. there are vicious cycles. i am stuck in a dryer and my skin is searing. its harder to close your eyes and ride through the bumps than it is to cry and feel the pain with so much force. all this is doing is replacing pain with different pain. duller pain. like a balm to a burn. back to the dryer. you go up, you go down. this is more than just weight or feelings. between living and dying. when will the human body just break. i am constantly saying to myself, i'm not broken, just bent and weak. broken is the brink of existance. when can i break. do i even want to break? there's a point where you get scared. i mean terrified. when you're laying in bed, listening to the pulse in your ears with your head against the pillow. and it's slowing down. slower than it should be. and it shocks you. this should make your heart race. the moment when you think you may die, your heart should be more than a fucking hummingbird trapped in your ribcage. but it's not. it's slowing down. you wonder if you forgot to breathe. and then you get out of the spin cycle and lay, more damp than dry, sweating and cold and clammy on the laundry room floor. spinning and spinning still, so lightheaded. you know you need to consume. but you cant. and still there are limits. there are limits as to what the human body can endure. the human body can go 40 days without food or so it has been said. i think this is the brink of heaven. regardless of if heaven exists or not. this is the brink of finally conquering the weight. finally conquering the hunger, the need, the pathetic fucking need when you know goddamned right that you don't need anything. nothing can touch you. the brink of fucking heaven. you're reaching for it, blue & dizzy on the floor. the human body is not a smooth running machine like previously thought. on the outside you could probably look perfect. or not. inside you're ugly. you are full of deficiencies and health risks like heart or liver failure, depending on what you do to look so shockingly attractive. and by attractive i mean thin. and by thin i mean emaciated. maybe. if you even get there. even if you're not there, you are still empty. you robot. what are you running on? so empty inside, both physically and mentally. is this the feeling you were searching for? aren't you satisfied? well, aren't you?
10.17.05                                      so fucking st e r  i   l    e  .
stop plagiarism.
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