2004-03-15, 7:32 p.m.

My new goal weight is not a weight at all. It's just to starve myself to death. I don't mean that in like, I want to be so thin that I hit zero, or so thin that I can't survive anymore. My eating disorder is now an act of suicide.

I want to die. I hate this. I hate life. Everything is meaningless. I saw school counselor today. He says I have parents. I laugh at him. So what? He says I have pretty good grades. So what? I spit back at him. So what. So what. So what. Everything is a fucking joke. I don't want any of it. He says I have Marlie, the woman I go to those eating disorder meetings with. SO WHAT. She can't make me happy. She can't make me stop throwing up every night. She can't make the day worth facing. And I don't mean just her. NOTHING can and NOTHING ever will. NOTHING will make the day tolerable. I can't HANDLE my mom anymore. I can't handle school. I can't handle food, my body, throwing up, money, buying food, not having friends, the hours of each day, my nightmares. I CAN'T HANDLE LIFE. I'm a fucking coward. And you know what I say to that? SO WHAT?

I'm getting out. I'll lose enough weight till i pass out and end up in a hospital. I'll chill in a hospital, away from EVERYTHING, till I die. DIE DIE DIE. HAH.


I don't care what you think of that. SCREW YOU. FUCK THE WORLD. GO SHIT TWICE AND DIE.


Because I'm getting out. OUT OUT OUT.

80 lbs this morning. losing steadily. Now I'm going to go throw up. So I keep losing. Julio this Wednesday. He can go fuck himself.