What I feel, I do. Most of the times.

My mind goes blank everytime I click on the tittle part. Like what the hell do I write without being too fat, preppy, perky, mainstream or crap like that. So I guess weird tittles are fine. DEAL WITH IT. <--My brother's favourite punch line. So today's post is going to be on the quirkier side too.

Dear empty white space, 


How are you? I hope your white space hasn't become whiter or whiter. I like you the same old white empty space. I'm fine here. It's pretty sunny. And I hope that secret trip my parents have been planning is true. I really do hope so.


  Today is beautiful. I felt alive. I felt...not fat. I felt great. Like I can breathe the dusty air without having to worry about my double chin. I can laugh without worrying about my chin or my stomach expanding or not. 


  I felt happy.


  I want this to go on forever empty white space. I actually have the right mood and mind to practice my Maths. But of course, I'd like to talk to you first empty white space. Today's practices have been peaceful. Although my leader was very pissed off, but me being tired equals to a happy girl.


  I didn't do too good on my runs today though. I was slow. I didn't stop but I was slow. My dog still hates me and so do my whole class. Thankfully there are a few good people there that I can comfortably talk without judgement. Though critique is accepted. When logical and socially accepted. Either ways,


  it was a good day.


  Until, I let myself down with my weak willpower to resist food. I ate three small pieces of chicken popcorn. I was disappointed. I was upset on how easily I thought I could 'reason' out my diet. Just because Aunt Red is visiting and some hormone crap told me that it is ok to eat. 


  So I ate.


  And I felt sick the whole day. Bad mistake. And even after that, when I came home after practices, I had a bowl of soup and 5 thin slices of fried potato, a teaspoon of curry, and a bit of pork. It was filling. Which is bad. I'm NOT supposed to be full. I'm suppose to be 'enough'.


  I'm worried white empty space. Firstly, I'm not on good terms with my best friend and now, myself wants to pick a fight with me while I just stand there and let them quarrel. 


  What shall I ever do?


  It's weird how selfish I am though. There are many other poor kids with even bigger problems, yet, they're living life with that term, 'YOLO'. I here create a big fuss. A storm in a teacup. 


  Will you help me white empty space? Will you help me go through my silliness? My foolishness? To teach me the correct ways. I should be punished. I'm sorry in advance. But it's great to know that you'd actually acknowledge me. I've got to do Maths empty white space. So long.

Yours for never.

...............

  

From the thefatgirlsguide.com

“When [your friends] say “You’re not fat,” what they really mean is “You’re not a dozen nasty things I associate with the word fat.” The size of your body is not what’s in question; a tape measure or a mirror could solve that dispute. What’s in question is your goodness, your lovability, your intelligence, your kindness, your attractiveness. And your friends, not surprisingly, are inclined to believe you get high marks in all those categories. Ergo, you couldn’t possibly be fat.
But I am. I am cute and healthy and pleasant-smelling (usually) and ambitious and smart and lovable and fun and stylish and friendly and outgoing and categorically not icky. And I am fat — just like I’m also short, also American, also blonde (with a little chemical assistance). It is just one fucking word that describes me, out of hundreds that could. Those three little letters do not actually cancel out all of my good qualities.
[…]
Because fat should mean only having more adipose tissue than the average person, but it doesn’t. And every time you ignore what’s in front of your face to tell me I’m not fat because you can’t bring yourself to put me in that nasty, ugly category, you’re buying in to the idea that real fat people are all sorts of nasty, ugly things I’m not. Horseshit. I am a real fat person, and very few real fat people live up to the worst stereotypes wielded against us.
[…]
Too many women look at me and think, She can’t be fat —she looks fine, then look at themselves and think, I’m so fat — I can’t possibly look (or be) fine. Even ones who are built exactly like me. As long as the horseshit stereotypes persist — that fat women can never be healthy, smart, driven, disciplined, fashionable, attractive and eminently lovable — women who are all those things and fat will keep seeing themselves as fundamentally disgusting and unworthy. So every time someone tries to tell me I’m not fat simply because I don’t fit those stereotypes, I’m gonna keep telling them I am, too, fat, dammit! Le fat, c’est moi. This is what fat looks like.
I am a kindhearted, intelligent, attractive, person, and I am fat. There is no paradox there.”

GET ALL THAT BULLSHIT OFF.

Comes a beautiful simple blog.

I need a facial cleanser, not some saccharine cheesy strawberry pimple enhancer or some shit like that

Ok.

Phantom's 19song has been replaying in my head again and again. I just loved how they really turned banned songs into some ASDFGHJKL mashup. Seriously. It doesn't sound one bit like Hands up or Mirotic. Haha.

As she went to do something I just continued typing out what I really want to say. Because we're best friends. What the heck. Best friends are all supposed to be......open.  By the time I want to press that ENTER button, she sends me a message saying that she's back. All tears rolled down because I know that what I feel cannot really be...opened. 

That thingy is back. Gezz. It's not a bad as before but it's back. Goddamit. I need to post something up before me pops offs the connection.