I want to be Beautiful too

Skinny girls are walking all around me, their voices and their laughter, the visions were mere mockery to me. They’re calling themselves fat?

 And if they were, I’d probably be worst.

The desire to lose the weight prances around in my mind; somehow it’s always there, even if I’m in the presence of God. It’s a weight I have to bear and its purpose is to torment me. Chain me up. Force me into my shell that protected me from society. A shell that makes my world the way I wanted it to be, through lies, deceit, whatever. A shell derived from my subconscious. It’s an infinite space without escape. Endless possibilities.

I don’t know if you’ve felt this before my friends, but I’ll tell you one thing, this obsession is a demon lurking in the dark. You feel it, you hear it but you hardly see it. It’s the loneliness you feel creeping in your skin; clinging on to your soul. No matter what you do, you’ll never be satisfied. Happiness does not exist.

This hell was part of my creation, but I’m sick of tolerating it. I can’t tolerate the loneliness I’ve cost myself.

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