#nobody cares about the shit I care about I guess
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Buck could fill a small bakery with the amount he's baked in the past few weeks. He cleaned out the flour shelf at his local corner market, used a coop's worth of eggs, pushed his mixer to the limit, and had his oven working near constantly. Every neighbor on his floor and everyone he's passed in the lobby has had a loaf of some kind left on their doorstep or politely shoved into their hands. Everyone at the station is begging him not to overload them on anymore sugar - they'll take the carb-loaded meals he makes at work but avoid Buck the moment he enters the bay doors with a basket of saran-wrapped sweet bakes.
The worst part is that it's not even working anymore. It never really distracted him enough to not want to call Tommy, just put his hands and head to use for an hour or two at a time so that he couldn't text or call.
But now there's nothing left to bake with. And Eddie is looking at houses in El Paso. And everyone has family to go home to, except for Buck. And every reason he has for not being the one to reach out first goes out the window.
After a few rings, Tommy answers with a questioning: "-Buck?" and it's a gutpunch he doesn't need today but he's already feeling like shit so the pain just gets absorbed into the rest of it.
"H-hey, Tommy." It feels good to say his name under- well, not better circumstances than addressing his broken heart, but something with a bit of tentative hope at least.
And it's good to hear his voice. The voicemails and audio notes and videos from their time together have soothed him and tormented him at different times, but hearing Tommy respond sends a pang of longing through him.
"Um. I-I, uh."
"Are you okay?"
A bitter sound trips its way out of Buck's mouth. "No. No, I-I'm not okay."
"Are you hurt?"
The urgency in Tommy's voice thrills him; he still cares. But Buck doesn't want to misrepresent himself, doesn't want to trick Tommy into caring about what he's going through.
"Guess that depends."
"On what?"
"What kinda hurt you mean."
There's an inhale across the line. "What can I do?"
Tears prick at the corners of Buck's eyes. "I just- need someone to talk to." He doesn't say: even though we're not together anymore, can we still be friends? because even though he's missed Tommy being in his life, he doesn't know if he could be just friends.
"Okay." Buck hears some rustling in the background, footsteps, background noise receding. "I'm here. Talk to me."
Tommy wants to hear what Buck has to say, he always did. So Buck talks. He tells Tommy about Eddie moving away, and Tommy listens. And when it gets too much he tells Tommy about a new niece or nephew of his on the way, and Tommy offers his sincere congratulations. And then he tells Tommy about his baking coping mechanism and Tommy quiets.
So much so that Buck checks to see if the call dropped.
"I'm on my fifth engine," Tommy admit. "I keep taking them apart and putting them back together until they work better than before. But everytime I was done I had to start again, fix another broken thing, because I couldn't fix.."
Buck takes an unsteady breath. Us. "Me."
"No," Tommy says emphatically. "I couldn't fix me. Too broken to be good enough for you."
It's a heartwrenching confession, but Buck feels a smile beneath the tears sneaking down his face. "You don't think I'm broken? Nobody stays for me, Tommy. At some point I gotta realize I'm just not someone people wanna stick around for in the long run."
"Evan.."
Buck breezes over the sound of his name in Tommy's mouth, can't dwell on how good it feels because it won't last. "Guess neither of us are forever guys, huh." His heart, bruised and battered, bleeds a little more. The tears stream freely now. He sniffles, but manages to steady his voice as he says: "I loved you. That was real."
Tommy's breath hitches. "I was a coward."
Buck nods. Cries some more. They're both fucked up.
Tommy hesitates, but then: "I'm off-shift soon. We could.."
He leaves it hanging. There's so many ways Buck could finish that sentence, most of them unbearably hopeful. He doesn't want to stay in his empty apartment anymore. "Yours?" His voice is a little wet. "Maybe I could help you with that engine."
Tommy's breath of amusement is a balm to Buck's aching heart. "You know something about vintage cars I don't?" It's teasing, and gentle, and Buck has missed this.
"Maybe. Maybe trying to do it alone is the problem."
Another breath of laughter, followed by resignation in Tommy's voice. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
Buck listens to him breathe for a moment: in, out, in..
"I'll meet you at mine."
Buck's poor heart beats a little stronger.
*
It was more than an hour later, of battling crosstown traffic and then letting himself into Tommy's house because Tommy had explicitly told him to use the spare key. They never gotten to the point of swapping keys. That probably should've been a step they didn't skip over. Buck's too-long legs had skipped too many for Tommy's comfort.
He pushes all thoughts of that aside. He's not perfect, he's too much, but Tommy agreed to see him. Tommy wants.. he's not sure.
Buck stands in the little living room, surveying Tommy's space while his mind spirals, heart yoyo-ing between hope and hopelessness. He doesn't know how much time passes when the front door opens and Tommy appears in the entryway.
He looks good. Tired, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by, but good. His hair is a little longer all over, and it suits him. Buck wants to tell him as much but he can't seem to say anything.
Then Tommy says, "Hey," soft and concerned and fond, a sad smile at the corners of his eyes.
And Buck's tears threaten back into his own. "Hey." His voice is watery and brittle.
Tommy's there in three strides, gathering Buck into his arms, and Buck lets himself be wrapped in an embrace. Winds his arms around Tommy and presses into his solid warmth. Breathes him in as the tears come.
He feels safe. Seen. His heart cradled in care the way his body is cradled in Tommy's arms.
Buck takes a deep, steadying inhale of Tommy's scent and pulls back enough to look him in the face. His hands loose their grip at Tommy's shirt, smoothing to palm him through the cotton.
"About that engine.."
Tommy's smile is wide enough to crinkle his eyes in that way Buck loves, with joy etched in the creases.
"I wanna help you, if you'll let me. We could make it work. Together."
Tommy's eyes glisten. His smile breaks into a grin. "I'd like to try that."
buck probably called tommy every chance he got when they were together. driving home from work and stuck in traffic, itās time to call tommy and tell him about his shift. late night in bed and heās struggling to fall asleep without him, tommyās soft voice will lull him to sleep from the other side of the phone. both on shift and the calls had been particularly slow, he will go and sit on the roof with tommy on loud speaker and they will just talk about anything and everything.
and when buck finds out that eddie is thinking about moving back to texas, tommy is the only person who he wants to talk to about it. so he finally gives in and calls. and of course, tommy will answer.
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The Chic Diet by kit olsen
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Diets
The Baby Food Diet
Ohmigod, tell me more, right? Enter: the Baby Food Diet.
You don't have to chew anything since the blender did that for you. Portion control won't be an issue either since all of the stores carry single-servings with really low calorie counts. And, like, I guess that babies need clean and well-rounded food or something because, like, all of the ingredients are things that you've heard before and are actually good for you. It's like a juice fast, but with a little more substance and a little less lawnmower drippings. But, like, waaay more affordable, so you can use all of the money that you save on some flavored Pedialyte, which is really just like a zero-calorie coconut water.
Plus, thanks to all of the crazy and demanding yoga mommies decked out in Lululemon with their obscenely expensive strollers, Whole Foods has really upped their game in the baby food aisle. There's seriously a flavour for whatever type of mood that you might be in so don't even worry about the lack of variety. It's like chic girl heaven. Make sure you get there early though, so you won't have to fight with the colicky toddler in the Missoni Bugaboo over the last "zucchini banana & amaranth."
Ella's Kitchen and Plum Organics are good for your basic blends of fruits and vegetables, but I swear that the marketing team at Earth's Best was targeting chic/orthorexic adults when naming their product lines. "Antioxidant Blends?" "Super Fruits?" "Gourmet Meals and Seasonal Harvest?" Um, yea, okay. Like 6 month olds care about that kind of shit.
So, apparently, Tracy Anderson (bless her heart) suggests that one should consume 14 jars per day. Um, no. It's not like we're headed into famine or something. A couple of jars or pouches should suffice and, even then, you should be watching your carb intake. That means NO all-fruit blends, you fat fuck. Make sure to pick vegetable-heavy varieties, though those can be sugarific also. I mean, even "spinach + apple + rutabagas" has 8 grams of carbs after adjusting for fibre. Ugh. Who knew that babies were such sugar whores? It's just, like, really unfair for all of the other customers who are trying to watch their figures.
Take a good look at Abbey Lee Kershaw and Hedi Slimane. See their jutting cheekbones and bulging eyeballs? Yours can totally be like that too, so long as you're willing to adhere to the uber cutesy diet that these two effortlessly chic Skeletors have been known to follow.
Now, everyone that knows that digestion isn't very glamorous. The act of mastication is, in itself, so very vulgar, and then that nasty bolus of caloric horror settles into your distended stomach, stirring up a whirlwind of has and discomfort as it waits for hours to be broken down. After that harrowing process, a trillion fat globules get sent directly to your upper arms and inner thighs. And then, well, you know... something really un-chic happens in le toilette.
But what if you could bypass all of that unpleasantry and just follow a really adorable diet that consists of only a few hundred calories a day? And, like, your stomach will stay flat since it's not filled with festering kale and noxious fumes.
The Air Diet
Every wannabe Carrie Bradshaw (or Charlotte York if you're really annoying) yearns to achieve maximal chicness with minimal effort. And nobody can do posh like the French, right? Even their diets ooze superior elegance that we ugly Americans could only aspire to attain.
Like, take the Air Diet, or L'Air Fooding as French Grazia dubbed it. God, even the name is so chic, I DIE. So anyway, you basically pretend to eat whatever the hell you want, without actually allowing it touch your lips. Naysayers and physicians will be like, "Ohmigod, that's called anorexia!", but, um, no. Anorexia is what my roommate, Sydney, has, and she won't even go near food without having a twitching episode. This is, like, a lot healthier psychologically.
I mean, I totally get it. Everyone knows that enjoying food is an experience and this diet allows you to immerse yourself in the whole process until the actual eating part. But you still get to order your meal, pay for it, cut it up, smell the aromas, and Instagram pictures of your drool-worthy plate. You just don't absorb all of the calories and fat associated with ingesting the actual food. It's like you're a chic French diet mime who traded eating for the right to talk. Ooh, maybe you can buy a really cute. A.P.C. striped shirt to go with your performance. So authentic.
It's not like you don't eat at all, either. You still get to binge on all of the la soupe a l'eau (translation: chic soup with an uber pretentious name) that you want. Oh, you want to know what's in it> Um, I had the recipe right here. Hold on. Oh, here it is. Boiled water and sea salt. Hm. But sea salt has, like, a lot of minerals in it, right? How nutritious.
So, yea. It seems like the majority of my friends have been on this diet for a really long time. Like even before that issue came out. What trendsetters. I mean, it's a great way for cutting calories, you know? As a bonus, it's not even restrictive! Like, you can help yourself to all of the fancily named soup and air that you want. And, like, a variety of air at that. Just stroll through the perfume section at Barney's or traipse through Le Labo when you're feeling bored with the plain, bourgeoisie oxygen around you. And if you're feeling especially ravenous (um, binge eating disorder, anyone?) you can practice some yoga breathing. It's like dietary meditation. Kay, now Ocean Breath, everyone.
The Paleo Diet
While cavemen might not have been very fashion-forward, they apparently knew how to be skinny motherfuckers. The Museum of Natural History really needs to slim down the mannequins in the exhibit to reflect this don't you think? So inaccurate. Anyway, this hunter-gatherer-centric diet is very simple in that it has one rule- only eat shit that Betty Flinstone would have prepared.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with history, this means that Kettle Chips and peanut butter are no-goes. Anything processed, such as Lean Cuisines, or foods that require relatively modern technology to produce, such as grains, are not allowed. Neither are dairy products, refined sugars, legumes, potatoes, processed oils or alcohol. Yup, even alcohol. No, they did not have "Stone Age" vodka or sugar-free "Bedrock" Red Bull back then. Yes, I am positive.
Anyway, you're basically allowed to have wild seafood, organic eggs, grass-fed game, vegetables, fruits and some nuts. The idea behind this style of eating is that humans, as a species, have not greatly evolved since the era of our cave dwelling ancestors. That is, our digestive systems are largely genetically similar to those of dinosaurs and are still not fully adapted to the vast changes in diet that have occurred since the dawn of the agricultural age. Simply put, we're not that great at digesting the majority of the shit foods that line supermarket shelves today. Yes, even the shelves at Whole Foods.
By following the palaeolithic diet, however, we would be providing our bodies with ideal foods to which our digestive systems are genetically adapted, When we are better able to process and absorb nutrients from these easily digested foods, we would be more capable of achieving optimal health.
But who really cares about primal strength and surly shit like that? Not me or any of my friends, despite the fact that everyone I know has "gone Paleo." What we love about this diet is the amount of control and restriction that it provides the user. You can basically reject most foods so long as you can come up with some inane reason as to why. "I'm only channeling cavewomen who lived in the Northern Hemisphere, and I don't think those were native to that region," you can say with a dismissive sniff as you swat away a platter of seasonal stone fruit. Um, apricots have a lot of carbs, didn't you know?
Plus, the diet itself is just really trendy. It's like the new Dukan Diet, which was originally the new Atkins, which was basically the new Cabbage Soup Diet. You'll probably be consuming the same meals that you normally are, but can now affix the hip label of "Paleo" to your dietary habits. But don't do that shit where you put goat's milk butter in your coffee or inhale bushels of avocados in one sitting- no=carb calories are still calories, after all.
The Ridiculously Low Carb Diet
In the world of the chic, all of the inhabitants are consumed with keeping their carb intakes as close to zero as humanly possible. Throw any generic food product at a chic girl and she can spit back its estimated carbohydrate content in mere seconds. And, as if she were a neurologist treating childhood epilepsy, she knows the ins and outs of the ketogenic diet like the back of her Rodin Crema slathered hand.
Though she may have no idea what mitosis is, or how photosynthesis works, ant legitimate chic girl could pass a PhD-level Nutrition exam with flying colours. "In order to get into a state of ketosis, you need to deplete the glycogen stores in your liver and muscles before even tapping into your fat energy sources. To do that, you have to keep your net carbohydrate intake below 25 grams a day," she will prattle off expertly, though she may not even have the faintest idea what she is actually talking about.
Basically, she knows that the lower your carbohydrate intake, the more fat you will end up burning. Thus, being the borderline-psychotic overachiever that she is, she will set an upper limit of approximately 5 grams of net carbohydrates per day for herself.
Plus, carbs are totes unnecessary. No one has ever looked cute while gorging on a slice of pizza or inhaling a burrito. But nibbling on a piece of asparagus or noshing on a sliver of pecorino is just adorbs. They're like low glycaemic pieces de resistance that compliment your Zac Posen cocktail dress. Bread used to be the official food of peasants, just so you know.
"I only eat foods that are green or white," were the first words that my soon-to be-future roommate, Lauren, ever muttered to me. No mention of her name, age or hometown- nothing. That's how seriously a true chic girl take her carbohydrate consumption- it defines who she is.
"What do you mean?" I had asked innocently like a clueless martian. Mind you, I still wore leggings and thought Greek Yogurt parfaits were healthy at the time. (I know, I know- don't judge me.)
Lauren, bless her heart, had then taken me under her wing, expertly gu8iding me into my current status of perpetual ketosis. We basically subsist on kale, spinach, avocado, egg whites, cheese, white fish and chicken breasts. And what can I say? I'm obsessed. The far just melted off like butter (which is totally allowed, by the way.) Like, I never want to belong to any other metabolic state of mind. It's just so simple, and everyone's doing it. I mean, just saunter into a Fashion Week after party and it'll reek of Chanel Chance and ketones. So chic.
So you can go the high fat route a la Atkins, or limit your fat consumption in the way of Dukan practitioners. Either way, you'll lose the flab and be super taut. But you can never go wrong with the Green and White Diet, the secret weapon of fashionistas in the know. And, while trends may come and go, there is one combination that will always be in style- ketosis breath and look of death. #Chic
The Strategic Starvation Diet
"You just don't eat for, like 18 hours a day," the chic girl will explain when concerned friends inquire about her new stringent diet du jour. "But you totally get to have balanced meals for the other 6! It was on the news. They tested it on mice and they, like, totally lived longer. Ew."
Intermittent fasting is like a godsend for the chic. Apparently, it's actually really healthy and has a bunch of scientific studies published to back it up. Not that the chic girl will ever read them, of course. But if positive results actually exist, then there's actually something to validate her cray.
I mean, what kind of diet condones extended periods of starvation? It's as if this way of eating was made up specifically with the chic bitches in mind. Not to mention that i's supposedly uber effective! Like, in clinical trials, researchers found that overweight participants how utilized intermittent fasting lost way more fat than those who ate the same meals spread throughout the day. I knew that whole "6 mini meals a day" adage was total bullshit!
Of course, the chic girl is just an extreme case of human, so she'll narrow her eating window to 2 hours or so. Some deranged bitches may even aim for 20 minutes! Talk about efficiency.
There's an even wackier version of this method that's been named the "Bulletproof Diet," whatever that means. Basically, you drink black coffee with butter or coconut oil stirred in so that you don't get hungry while in your fasted state. Um, that sounds like a lot of unnecessary calories. And chic girls don't get plagued with hunger- we like to refer to it as "getting of track.: Lile, seriously? Drinking butter> That's not even real fasting. People have no willpower nowadays.
Supporters of this way of eating suggest that people snack on healthy foods during their feeding periods, like bananas and apples. Um, bananas are super starchy. And apples? Did you know that apples don't actually have much nutritional value> The only real benefit that comes form apples is from pectin, which will help to regulate digestion. but since chic girls already consume astronomical amounts of fibre, they won't be receiving many benefits from munching on apples. They can totally get their Vitamin C from elsewhere. Ohmigod, you're learning, like, so much from me. This might as well be a textbook!
I suggest that you nibble on a piece of cheese or some veggies during your allotted eating time. That way, you can totally maximize ketosis and burn as much fat as fucking possible. I mean, Emily Blunt's character in The Devil Wears Prada totally knew what she was doing. She was just way ahead of her time. Like, don't you want to be one stomach fu away from sample size too?
The Raw Food Diet
This one's for the extremists, of which there are many in the upper echelons of the chic. Basically, you stick to a diet of uncooked veggies all day long, with the occasional piece of fruit thrown in. As expected, these bitches are skinny as fuck and look great in just about anything. They also absorb, like, maximal nutrients and have beautiful skin and hair. Plus, they get to lecture and judge others all day long about the importance of enzymes and whatnot. These skinny twigs can also consume bushels of allowed foods and still keep their daily calorie counts in the hundreds. Totes ideal, if you can stomach it, I mean. But have you ever tried raw broccoli or mushrooms? Ew.
If you've lost all sensory input from your taste buds, as can happen when on frightening amount of amphetamines, this is the perfect lifestyle for you. You can be like a super svelte panda bear and nosh on stalks of celery or fistfuls of curly kale all day. You'll lose heaps of weight and will have a spotless digestive tract, I'm sure. Just be proactive about taking, like, 15 Beano with each meal. Gas isn't cute, even if it's being caused by adorable produce like grape tomatoes and baby carrots.
Some people will get all technical and allow themselves to have sashimi, but staunch raw foodists will shake their heads at this practice. I don't see what's wrong with it, especially since sushi is, like, so yum. Anyway, soaked nuts and sprouted seeds are allowed, but make sure to watch how much you eat. They're still packed with calories and, this, aren't totally conducive to rapid fat obliteration.
People on the raw food diet love to chirp about mental clarity and feelings of euphoria, but I think that they're just really happy because they can slip into Gareth Pugh leather leggings without putting up a struggle. I highly doubt that weeping into bowls of raw radicchio and consuming bland vegetables dressed in the salt of my tears would make me feel vibrant and more alive. I mean, I would be completely ecstatic about sticking to a strict diet of copper pennies and shards of glass if it, too, left me with a 3-inch thigh cap. But to each her own, I suppose.
It's also well known that a lot of working models are technically raw foodies since they basically just consume cauliflower smoothies and piles of wilted spinach. No wonder they always look so sad. But have you seen their hip bones? Um, yea.
So I totally just ordered a raw organic vegan Kale Dulse Salad and a cold-pressed coffee from Seamless. They better fucking hurry before all the nutrients break down. Ooh, do you think calories can break down over time too? Let's hope so. Enzymes, here I come!
The One Food Diet
Basically, anyone who lacks even a smidgen of self-control should consider this dietary tactic. It allows no leeway for excuses or exceptions so long as you follow just one simple rule: consume only one type of food.
When you define vague dietary rules, such as allowing low-carb or liquid items, you'll find that the hungry fatass within will convince herself that certain foods fit the guidelines. I mean, butterscotch pot de creme is technically liquid, right? And an entire stick of butter covered in guacamole is totes low-carb. Inhaling, like, three bowls of blood orange sorbet doesn't constitute cheating on a raw food diet, either...
Stop. Just stop. You obvi have issues with following rules, oh voracious one. Technicalities are just fancy excuses for the dietarily inept, and one shouldn't be allowed to make risky, body composition-altering decisions when starving and delirious. So do as the OCD-inflicted waifs do and pick one food with which to thoroughly familiarize yourself to the point of disgust for the next two weeks.
You won't have to waste time obsessing over meal planning or calculating nutritional contents. It's basically like putting your diet on auto-pilot ass you graze on your one allowed food in a fat-shedding haze. Honestly, yo can pick whatever you want, since you'll likely get sick of it as time goes on. Like, did you know that Uma Thurman once went on an ice cream diet? She lost 25 pounds over a six-week period. On ice cream. ON ICE CREAM.
Now, I don't suggest that you pick the congealed, sweetened mucus of dairy cows as your food of choice, as that' s just, like, not really a good starting point. Pick something like tomatoes, or green apples, or avocados, Bananas and grapes work also, but do keep in mind that they are quite high in sugar. My personal choices are either eggs or grapefruit with Splenda. Whatever you choose, make sure to stick with it. That's all there is to it.
Some proponents believe that partaking in the consumption of only one type of food allows your body to become more efficient at digesting and metabolizing it, but I'm not sure. I mean, I guess it makes sense. But who really gives a fuck about all of that health-boosting mumbo jumbo? The real reason that this diet is so attractive and effective is because it helps to teach you a lesson in discipline and restraint. By sticking to this diet for just a short while, you'll see that you're more than capable of controlling yourself when it comes to impulsive food-related decisions.
It's like dietary therapy, but without having to visit an overpriced psychiatrist who just nods along and asks you obvious questions about how you feel about that time you ate a lobster roll. Um, I feel like shit, okay? You didn't need to remind me. That's why I'm allowing myself zucchini slices for the next month, duh.
The Two Cup Diet
Did you know that your stomach is only the size of your fist? So why are you stuffing it until you can't breathe? Um, I don't care if you're a firm believer in Volumetrics- that method only works if you're feasting on organic iceberg lettuce and sparkling water.
Now, getting a bariatric surgery done costs roughly $30,000. Trust me, I went to go get an estimate. The doctor was actually really rude and scoffed at me during the consultation, which I really took offense to. He was all, "Um, you know that this is for, like, clinically obese people, right?" So I was like, "Er, yea. It's called preventative medicine, natch." And then he, like, totally rolled his eyes at me and said in a condescending tone, "You obvi don't qualify for the procedure, especially since your BMI totes falls into the underweight category. Sorrz." I'm not an expert in medical law or anything, but I think that's called discrimination. Horrible bedside manner, not to mention illegal, no? I really need to call my dad's attorney about this.
Anyway, my friend, Melissa, found a totally cheap alternative to getting your stomach stapled until it's the size of a walnut. She learned it from a group of 14 year old Latvian models that she shared a room with during Milan Fashion Week. You basically take two tiny Dixie cups and fill them with whatever food you might please, though preferably of the low-calorie, low-carb and low-fat variety. Then you can enjoy your mini feast without worrying about portion control. It takes the stomach roughly four hours to empty, so you can set an alarm on your iPhone for four hour intervals to remind you of when you're allowed to have another two cups. Um, genius, right? And who said that teenaged models needed to stay in school to have good heads on their shoulders?
Don't abuse this system by using the red plastic cups of beer pong infamy, though. You're not an obese retired frat boy living it up in Murray Hill. By Dixie cups, I'm referring to the uber cutesy 3 oz. waxed paper ones that are meant for gargling in the bathroom. If you want to take it to the next level, you can also use tiny utensils, like oyster forks, to slow down your consumption and increase satiety. There w as this one girl that I interned with who carried around a tiny Tiffany & Co. silver baby spoon with her everywhere. Totally crazy, yet totally chic. Did I mention that she weighed, like, 85 pounds?
So who cares if you look like an unhinged betch for scarfing down tiny bites of wild mushroom fricassee from a mouthwash-delivery vessel using a toddler's fork? You'll be laughing all the way past the antiseptic-scented waiting room of a really rude weight loss surgeon's shabbily decorated Upper East Side clinic while your critics slowly begin to qualify for Lap-band installation. Um, who said that preventative medicine had to cost a year's worth of college tu8ition? People with no self-control, obvi.
The HCG Diet
Only a batshit cray person would willingly stab herself repeatedly while wincing and bellowing in pain, right? Um, yes, but that mentally unstable waif wielding the 25 gauge needle sure is tiny. Enter the HCG Diet, a regimen in which one is required to inject oneself with a variety of vitamins and hormones while subsisting on a maximum of 500 calories per day. HCG, or Human Chorionic Gonadotrophin, is basically a hormone produced by pregnant women soo after conception for... I don't know. The guy who came up with the idea to implement it in a weight loss regimen said that it suppresses your appetite and helps with fat loss, or whatever. Anyway its use as a weight loss agent is, like, really frowned upon by the FDA, which everyone knows must mean that it totally works. Like, remember ephedra? And phentermine? Uh, yea.
It's really easy. You basically follow an ultra low-calorie, low-carbohydrate, low fat, high-protein diet (uh, don't we regardless?) and give yourself daily injections of Vitamin B-12 and HCG in your hips and thighs, respectively. A physician or medical professional has to hand then over, so expect to pay a pretty penny (or 60 thousand) for a three-week program. If you're feeling super ambitious, you can also drag the whole thing our for six weeks!
Everyone will be like, "Er, of course you're losing weight. You're only eating 500 calories each day!" Ohmigod, really? Thanks for the news flash. I totally didn't know that. Um, of course anyone will lose weight on a 500-calorie diet, you observant twats. But who (other than an anorexic ballerina) actually has the discipline to stick to those numbers? Uh, a really chic girl who just blew one week's pay on dietary heroin, that's who.
So even if HCG isn't actually clinically proven to assist with fat loss or appetite suppression, who really cares? Even if you had spent hundreds of dollars on sterile syringes filled with Flinstones vitamins diluted in Diet Sprite, you would still have an obligation to stick to the accompanying regimen. I';s called financial responsibility, people!
But, oh Chic One, how come we can't just use the homeopathic drops that they sell on Amazon? I don't want to hurt myself, you say. I really don't like needles, you cry out. Um, in case you haven't been paying attention, there's a concept called "No Pain, A Lotta Gain." And it's just, like, totes legit? I mean, just because you rub to botulism toxin all over your skin doesn't mean that you're going to do skit about your crow's feet or laugh lines. You're just going to have a really dirty face. But inject some Botox all up in those crevices? Um, hello Bruce Jenner!
Besides, didn't you know that "homeopathic" is just Latin for "faker than a Canal Street Kurakami Multicolore Monogram Speedy 25?" Ew.
The Cabbage Soup Diet
"I lost, like, 10 pounds in 3 days," the chic girl will announce with widened eyes to all of her entranced comrades. "I didn't even know that I had that much to lose!"
Going on the cabbage soup diet is akin to complaining about having to fly home for the holidays or binge drinking over Memorial Day Weekend- it's just ingrained in American culture. Eating disordered betches of yore have passed this timeless diet on from generation to generation and, as unglamorous as it may be, it still prevails as a magic bullet of sorts to this day. So when you need to get skinny stat, show a little patriotic spirit and boil up a giant vat of cabbage and under-seasoned water. Your tummy won't thank you, but your thigh gap sure will.
You can binge if you'd like, but I'm sure you won't want to. The soup isn't particularly enthralling to the taste buds, but the parboiled vegetables will help to satisfy the vacuous pit that is your empty stomach. And, even if you stuff yourself senseless with the tasteless broth, you'll still probably only consume a couple of hundred calories a day. Just don't try to stand up too quickly, or you might just faint from chic overload!
Some variations of the diet allow other foods, such as bananas and meat, but you really shouldn't stray from tradition. Like, what would your ancestors say? They would likely shake their pin curls in disappointment.
The basic recipe calls for cabbage (duh), celery, mushrooms, tomatoes, peppers, onions, carrots, pre-made bullion cubes and your seasonings of choice. Sounds super yum, right? Um, this is when you're supposed to nod and be like, "Ohmigod, delish."
Anyway, I wouldn't bother adding onions or carrots since they're uber starchy. I just don't want you to get kicked out of ketosis, you know? Come to think of it, throw those tomatoes out too. That bouillon just seems totes unnecessary also. Okay, so our soup will basically consist of mineral water and cabbage, I suppose. But now we're, like, totally doing the One Food Diet, too. And Paleo! And, like, this is uber vegan-friendly. Gawd, talk about multi-tasking.
The "I can't see it!" Diet
If you're a fixture on the fashion industry's party circuit, you are well aware of the au courant set's penchant for microscopic portions of distinguishingly decadent food, I mean, what exactly is the purpose of serving miniature cupcakes? Is this a test? Like, what's with the tiny sandwiches and cheeseburgers? Is the bread just there to keep your fingers clean? And someone please explain to me the obsession with canapes and fried puffs. All I see are fat and carbs sharing real estate on a tray smothered in grease and shame. It's actually really confusing yet insulting yet intriguing yet tempting yet cute yet revolting, all at the same time.
Am I supposed to eat it? I think I am. I mean, these kind caterers have already done all of the hard work and cut everything into tiny, guilt-free smidgens. And how terrible could everything be when the portion sizes are so adorable? That grilled truffle oil-infused gruyere sandwich can't be so bad for me, right? It's only, like, half the size of my Amex card. And that microscopic scone? It's the size of a quarter! Having one doesn't make me irresponsible.
Wait a minute. Ohmigod, are people watching? Do I look poor and desperate? How come no one else is eating? Should I not be eating either? I think I just saw that blogger pop a tiny piece of fried macaroni and cheese into his mouth. Or did he? I repeat, is this a test?
There is a reason that all of the offering at such glamorous parties are bite-sized enigmas of congealed cheese and bacon grease. They're your cheat treats! Enjoying a few tiny morsels of forbidden food is totes acceptable, so long as you don't carry around a plate laden with them. As a reward for all of the other 364 days a year that you deny yourself of such scrumptious evils, you are allowed this one window of glorious opportunity to indulge in two or, daresay, three pieces of wanton abandon.
Oh, but the fashion crowd is a clever one. While each itty-bitty hors d'ouevre might seem relatively innocuous, it is still a miniature recreation of something that you would never be caught dead eating in front of Anna Wintour. Thus, you must wolf it down as surreptitiously as possible while still keeping your composure. And in that is where the genius lies.
After committing such a deplorable act as inhaling a mini brownie in three seconds flat while crouched down behind a crowd of fashion photographers, you are overcome with remorse and shame. What has come of you? Have you no self-control? It wasn't even worth it! That's it- no more food for the rest of the night! Then you will ration out a mini green juice for the rest of the evening in hopes that it will at least help to dilute your transgressions.
Do you see what just happened? You got your junk food fix, yet your calorie count for the day will be kept low by the guilt that overwhelms you. If you're lucky, the remorse will spill over into the next day. Maybe even the rest pf the week! D you know what just happened? It's called psychology.
The I'm-fucking-rich-and-glamourous Diet
For the impossibly chic girl, it's raining oysters, sashimi and tartare every night, with a guarantee of accompanying champagne showers. She loves to order seafood towers for the table and is obsessed with rhubarb mignonette. "I'm basically on a raw food diet, as you know," she will explain to her friends as she persuades them into doing a $300 caviar tasting. "Just a really fancy one."
Or is black & blue filet mignon considered raw? Whatever. The chic girl loves her steak, especially if it's of the Kobe Wagyu variety. She'll do lobster or butterfish or even sea bream, but forgoes salmon because it's "so 2011." "I only do lox when I have Eggs Norwegian at Balthazar," she will say with a sniff as she pursues limited menus with disdain. "And I'm talking about Paris Balthazar, not the one on Spring."
She is like a culinary hipster in the sense that she basically shuns anything that wouldn't be available to the general public at Food Emporium. Um, farro risotto? With fucking kale? You better back away slowly before she scratches your face in frustration. How dare you offer her that. She doesn't do proletarian foods; didn't you know?
Basically, she will turn up her perfectly rhinoplasty job at the foods of mere mortals, rolling her eyes if someone suggests going out for pizza and snarling in disgust at the mention of gourmet burgers. "I tried a cheeseburger for the first time whilst on holiday in London last year," she will say as she lets out a harrowing sigh. "It was the worst experience of my entire life."
"Cava is not champagne!" she will vehemently cry out, snatching the menu away from the basic bitch who had the audacity to suggest it in her presence. "And oysters from New Jersey? Get the fuck out of my face."
This emaciated diva loves herself a good tasting menu, even if it consists of, like, 18 courses. But haven't you noticed how all of the nicer restaurants, like Per Se and Daniel, are basically just never-ending parades of microscopic low-carb morsels? Obvi the people in the kitchen get the picture! And as for dessert, this lavish betch never partakes- she's just so full, you know?
So be it foie grais brulee, organic rabbit rillettes or diver scallop carpaccio, this extravagant girl knows how to execute the zero-carb diet in style. And while other chic ladies around town may have to sacrifice pricey food in favour of fashion, this is never an issue for this rich bitch (or, perhaps, her sugar daddy). For the girl on the FRaG Diet, compromise is never an option.
#3ating d1sorder#3d not sheeran#4n@diary#3d f4st#th1n$pĆø#th1gh g@p#4norexla#4nor3xia#light as a feather#tw 3d vent#3ating disord3r#34t1ng d1s0rd3r#@na buddy#@na motivation#@n@ tips#@na rules#@na blog#@n@ buddy#4n4rexia#4n4blr#4n0rexic#4nerex1a#4n4tips#th!n$piration#th!gh gap#th!n$p0#th!n$po#th!nsp0#chic diet#cabbage soup
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I had a fascinating conversation with a coworker today in which I was arguing with him about the gaycoding of the cunty popstar character from the fifth element. I was positing that the character was gaycoded because heās flamboyant and talks in a gay voice and dresses like That etc and my coworker was like He has sex with women onscreen. This led to a few minutes of circular argument in which I finally gave up and made a joke I donāt remember about subtext. he looked at me blankly. I said subtext? Iām not explaining subtext to you I know you went to highschool english class. and he was like no I really have no idea what youāre talking about. I was like huh. Youāve never heard of subtext? So after a brief moment of AM I PRETENTIOUS OR IS THIS GUY STUPID followed immediately by remembering that Iām the child of upper middle class college graduates who grew up in one of the highest ranking counties for education in the entire country. I explained text and subtext to him. And I made a joke about being pretentious and he awkwardly asked me what the word pretentious meant. And I fucked up a second time because I was like lol Iām pretentious tho so itās fine. And he was like. Meaning? And I just stared at him. And then he apologized. donāt be sorry I actually feel quite bad about making you feel stupid
it reminded me of a conversation I had a few weeks ago, in which I was bitching about genshin impacts main story. I complained that it wasnāt very complex and my friend was like, no, but it is complex? Thereās so much Lore. Thereās so much going on that you have to keep track of. and I was like. You are misunderstanding what I mean by complex. and when they asked me what I meant by complex I was so unable to articulate myself I finally said something like You knowā¦ nuancedā¦ challengingā¦ has deep themes etc. and they were very plainly annoyed at me and were like. You know not everyone wants that right? Most people donāt want that. Most people want their media to not be that. I was like you would rather your media be shallow? and they fully to my face were like yes. I donāt want to think about it. like they said those words. They told me they want to skip the dialogue while scrolling on their phone and lose nothing
they did point out something to me in this conversation which was that many people donāt think deeply about art because the things they care about enough to think deeply about are not art. they were like most people think this deeply about their lives and therefore art is an escape to them and they donāt want to think deeply about it. & maybe I needed someone to say that to me because this conversation was spiraling towards āthe entire human population is braindead and poisoned by Web 3.0??????ā territories in my brain. Maybe people skip through genshin because they care deeply about things other than art sure. But at the same time. Why engage with art on such a surface level as to not even know what subtext is, and yet still have so much of your life surround engaging with art
because both of these people are big into art. the first guy is a huge weeb and my friend is a patented GamerTM. you spend every free moment of your life engaging with art and yet you canāt bring yourself to think about it for more than a few minutes? And you blame your highschool english teacher for this?
My friend told me that the effortless way I go about analysis is specific to me and that I am alone. that for āmostā people, thinking that deeply about media is tiring. and this annoys me because itās work for me too. Thinking deeply about things is difficult. But itās engaging. Itās meaningful to me. I guess it isnāt meaningful to āmostā people. I guess āmostā people want to skip through the dialogue in genshin impact. but why am I the weird one . Maybe you should be the weird one?
#why am I always the weird one#I had a friend a few days before this ask why I didnāt like ff//xv#and I went on a long and detailed explanation that she tuned out of halfway through#so I bothered the other guy present about it because he was also involved in the convo#and my friend told me that I had definitely annoyed him by talking at length like that#and I was genuinely baffled like He didnāt find picking apart the flaws of a video games narrative interesting? and they were like No#they said they can āsee people tune outā when I start talking at length#and I knew this already because people forget half the shit I say#but itās still like. I donāt know .#a fascinatingly bad feeling#I am the weird one#nobody cares about the shit I care about I guess#except the people in my phone (shout out to the people in my phone)
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#us election venting beware:#i am actually a bit annoyed at all the people that told me i was just being pessimistic and it's not healthy to think the worst of people#when yet again we have proven the worst of people wins#and even if it doesn't win (it will) it is still so significantly mobilized and out there#like i know it's not helpful. but i TOLD YOU. everyone thought it wouldn't happen and it DID.#just like nobody thought it would happen THEN and i was apparently the only one around me who saw it coming.#now can we PLEASE take this problem SERIOUSLY and get off our fucking asses and admit it's fucked out there??#the core of our system is bad. it is rotting and the proof is in this joke of an election#so can every white liberal get off my ass for 'bringing down the vibe' or whatever?#you people have been LAZY for a long time. you have been comfortable and unmotivated and been doing NOTHING.#quit focusing on doing your best by voting and get the fuck out there and disrupt. radicalize!#'common sense' is not enough and it never was#i hate to say it but believing the best in the masses in this deeply racist country will disappoint you every time#and i can't believe so many people fell for it again!!!!#i know it's unfair but#i'm finding it really difficult to sympathize with people in my community who are sad and disappointed#when i watched you do NOTHING for YEARS#(not for the people that are actively in danger. my heart breaks for you. i will not stop fighting for you. you didn't deserve this.)#i have never believed that people are fundamentally good and i'm sorry if that's mean but it's just not true#people are fundamentally neutral and you have to WORK to push them towards 'good'#and for too long the pushing has been going in the other direction. but 'pushing' at all is uncouth to you people i guess#get over your decorum. get over your morals that mean nothing. no one else is playing by your rules. DO something. CARE MORE.#sorry. i'm angry. i am filled with rage. and it is mostly directed towards the white intellectual elite.#to anyone who is blindingly furious i see you and i am with you lmao.#to anyone that wants to say 'i told you so' you are so valid.#we keep going.#futhermore: 'it's only four years. we'll recover.' BITCH#ONLY four years? that's four years of DAMAGE that will really hurt people in the meantime#and set up a whole host of problems for the future! the courts my god.#four years of bullshit policy and shit we will have to spend years untangling just to get back to even thinking about making any progress
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ive been unhealthily fixated on kubosai for the past few weeks, i just have no idea how to put it into words. kuboyasu aren and saiki kusuo are in love btw
#they are.#been thinking a lot about t*rusai and k*bosai and all three of them together#(really long rant in these tags that shouldve been a rant post but im not changing it soz i got carried away LMAO->)#see the thing is that k*bosai is my absolute favorite ship ever. but i get genuinely pissed when people smack talk t*rusai#idk like i get why people wouldnt ship kbs and i really dont care. and i also get that a lot of people have differing opinions and-#wont ship trsai. i honestly cant wrap my head around why (other than people who just hate teruhashi and are misogynistic) but im okay with-#agreeing to disagree and i dont care yk??#but people so often make these long discussion posts just yapping and yapping and making up shit about how trsa 'wouldnt work'#and its always just... actual complete bullshit. like unreadable word vomit.#sorry. but its true.#thats why it gets me so mad#i cant think of a single reason why you would feel the need to do that#why cant you be normal and just. not like a ship. just dont like it. hate it even. but dont make up shit just to shit on it#its so dumb i have to force myself to just scroll past them every time i encounter one#usually on tiktok or tumblr#if i read them i wont be able to stop myself from making the most concerned and upset noises ever cuz what is actually wrong with you#theyre always the biggest dumbest stretches ever and they ignore their actual development and pretend it didnt happen#it just makes me wonder why people are so okay with making fun of that ship but get mad if anyone even dislikes theirs#and then they complain about people 'shitting on their opinion'#LIKE ?? NOBODY CARES THAT U HATE THE SHIP. I CERTAINLY DONT GAF.#but ur in the main tags advertising ur hatred for it and sounding stupid as shit for no reason? UR SHITTING ON PEOPLES SHIP ON PURPOSE#AND THEN GETTING MAD AT ANYONE WHO EVEN SAYS 'i disagree actually' IM LAUGHING SO HARD STOP IM KILLING MYSELF#the one time i ever talked in that much detail about why i disliked a ship was bevause somebody specifically asked me#and yk what ?? i have literally gotten death threats over it. im not allowed to hate that ship but everyone else can do whatever i guess#okay sorry. rant over.#is that controversial i cant tell. i dont really care and im not tagging anyway#meows post
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Oh wow... charlastor shippers y'all okay?
#charlastor#hazbin hotel#putting aside the fact that i never cared about this ship i sincerely hope nobody is givin y'all shit for it lol#i never would have guessed that they'd take that route with their relationship even if i know it's not sincere on alastor's part#my condolences to y'all
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Steve is giving Eddie a lift home, his van is out of commission until it stops sounding like a goat got under the hood and is mocking the driver from the inside. Anyway, car troubles aside Steve is driving Eddie back to his trailer. Eddie is giving him a run down of why he should watch Star Trek as Steve searches through the radio.
He stops as the introduction of blinded by the light comes on. Eddie isnāt a music snob but itās obvious he gets a kick out of riling Steve up about his song preferences. He knows itās coming so Steve gets himself ready to defend his choices when Eddie is turning it up. Steve thinks heās done it, heās finally cracked Eddie Munson into giving up the āmetal is the only real musicā schtick he keeps up solely around Steve. Heās won!
Then of course Eddie subverts Steves expectations and is shouting āREVVED UP LIKE A DOUCHE ANOTHER RUNNER IN THE NIGHT!ā Looking so pleased with himself because of course he latches on to the song that sounds like the singer is saying douche. Heās banging his head and smiling at Steve, laughing all the while. Heās beautiful is the thing and Steve feels like somebody reached in to grab his heart and just twisted it. A feeling that is so far past painful itās euphoric. So he just gives in and joins Eddie in the stupidity of it all, both of them slapping the dashboard and singing harder when Eddieās favourite line makes its appearance.
Its pure unfiltered joy for seven minutes and eight second that Steve tucks away for safekeeping. It gets added to when Eddie takes his hand and kisses his knuckles when they eventually arrive at the trailer and leaves Steve with a blush on his cheeks.
#this is absolutely nothing I swear to Jesus I just KNOW#that Eddie LOVES Manfred manās version of blinded by the light MAINLY BECAUSE OF THE DOUCHE LINE#tried to make it funny. failed. tried to make it fluffy. failed.#so hereās a weird amalgamation that Iām too brain tired to fix because!!!#I ran away from here due to feeling like I donāt contribute enough or offer enough#so Iām just going to go back to when I knew nobody and shit posted#and wasnāt worried about disappointing people#because guess what nobody cares if I post!!!!! NOBODY!!! and that is FREEING!!!#idk man I just want to be stupid and make awful awful posts that are largely ignored because they are stupid and niche
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i dont know if this something you put a lot of thought into but it seems like you might and im curious so, what are some of your favorite themes to write about/the themes that interest you in writing or media?
Oh wow, good question. I put both a lot of thought and very little into the themes of my work. I always sit down and decide what I'm saying, and the meaning of the story, but some things always emerge in the writing. I usually discover what a story is actually about as I'm writing it. It's usually only after I finish the work that I realize what themes I had put in there, which seems like it should be bad. I think this means that a lot of my themes come through subconsciously. They're typically just...things I think about a lot.
I think the one thing I keep on coming back to is *tumblr voice* the mortifying ordeal of being known. That entire article, including the image of walking down a hundred stories of hell before reaching heaven, reconfigured my brain. It's just so damn hard to exist in a world with other people in it. There's an inevitability to hurting each other, but the love's worth it. Playing The World Ends With You at a vulnerable age primed me for obsession with this. That one quote from The Little Prince, ya know.
Generational trauma, cycles of trauma and abuse, and the long-term impact of trauma comes up a lot for me too. How being fucked up makes you fuck up others, the long-term consequences of being fucked up, the coping mechanisms we develop as a result. The ugly side of trauma and mental illness, the way we lash out and hurt people. I talk about escapism a lot, and the impact that has on you and the people around you long-term. This is usually exemplified through amnesia plotlines. This is a deep cut, but the Warchild series by Karin Lowachee had the best take on this I've read in a book.
Non-traditional love. I end up writing a lot of sibling dynamics, but I like creating unnamable and undefinable relationships. A lot of things I write just become very aro and asexual narratives. Love that saves. Love that isn't enough, but it still matters. The other side of love, which is grief.
I could go on. Forgiving yourself. Struggling to determine how to be a good person. How your identity & the intersections of your identity affect who you are. Power and power dynamics. A LOT of man vs self stories, like a lot a lot (I'm not overly interested by villains). The experience of being mentally ill and navigating the world as a mentally ill and/or disabled person. The differences between navigating the world as a man or a woman. I write a lot, so a lot of stuff tends to come up, lol. Roleswaps - fucking, somehow, for some reason, WHY, WHY DO I WRITE SO MUCH OF THEM -
Thanks for the ask, I had to do some self-reflection to answer it! I never really realize I'm writing about these things until I am, again. They're just all part of my framework of how I understand the world. Everybody has those, but when you're a writer it's easier to pull them out and microscope them.
#my asks#my writing#i really like writing experiences different from my own#i think it helps foster a sense of empathy and my own skills as a writer#a lot of my own writing is just informed by a feeling of āirl [and/or in the narrative] nobody gives a shit about this person but I doā#in their own ways dimitri & marc/stephanie brown/fox & clones/diamond & pearl clans#are people who nobody cares about or likes#severe mental illness; poverty; Every Clone Metaphor Ever; indigenous people#idk. didnt fully realize i did that til just now. spite i guess.#dunno what's up with THAT one there's no reason for THAT#oh well
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a really nice comment on 'nothing else fills' made me actually reread it for like, the first time in its entirety and.
wow. its... actually really good. like. i teared up multiple times and i'm the one that wrote it. why was i so mean to myself about it.
#that scene where katsuki re-experiences izuku's suicide.#that entire chapter where katsuki and izuku fight and then have really really violent sex. and he says he loves him.#jesus fucking christ. what the fuck was i on#i'm guessing my self-obsessed ass hated it because i thought i was putting my heart and soul into writing it#and it never like...'took off' or whatever.#like i ripped myself into pieces for it and nobody cared lmao#...which is so ridiculous. anna. ANNA LOOK AT ME#LITERALLY HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE READ IT AND RESONATED WITH IT#DIFFERENT PEOPLE CONNECT WITH DIFFERENT THINGS WHO CARES THAT IT DIDNT GET POPULAR#WHO GIVES A SHIT YOU NUMBERS OBSESSED LOSER#lmao. lol even#anyway todays episode? PEAK#the animation. izuku's reaction. the way gearshift LOOKS#I HAD TEARS IN MY EYES BRO ITS BEAUTIFULLLLLL#when izuku goes inside the vestige space and holds tenko's hands its over for me#i will be weeping. on the floor. just CRYING#it also resonates because in one of the worlds in NEF izuku killed shigaraki#and it literally does not stop haunting him. he's so broken up about it. 'i was supposed to save him but i killed him'#GOD. GOD. ANNA FROM A YEAR AGO YOU COULDNT HAVE KNOWN BUT#damn.
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#AUIAGAHAIVDKFJFHDNSKXJ#sorry#donāt mind me#on tonightās edition of i donāt have a diary so iām using tumblr tags#I JUST. HMMMMMM.#sorry for the second day in a row lmao. at least today we got a fun fresh funky gender crisis instead of sexuality.#iām literally about to leave for college where nobody knows me and itās not like i was out to lot of people here but. idk#and whatever tf is going on w my gender has never even been spoken aloud lol#from like being kiiiiiiind of a little bit out here#which is. nothing bad has happened. nobody cares. itās just my friends.#but goddamn#literally i keep coming to the conclusion that i. donāt want people to know. and i feel bad#not even as like a safety thing. or even#i donāt even know#thereās something in me that is so so so so scared#and i just. donāt want it to be something people know about me#but not even as like#UUUUUGGHHHHGGGH#i hate words#i donāt feel bad about it being a part of me. i just#i want it to stay like. with me. which doesnāt even fucking make sense#bc all i do is agonize in the middle of the night. itās not even like. pride. just sheer#i donāt know#wow ok. goodnight i guess i was not expecting to think abt that tonight holy shit#i literally couldnāt even say it in this whole wall of fucking text wtf is wrong with me lmao.#ok š cool š#night
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š» āĖā¹ ąæ š³
#the weather is so lovely today. itās breezy and cool but the sun is warm so itās not too cold or too hot out.#i wish it was like this forever.#ive been feeling so tired lately. physically n mentally & idk if its an underlying health issue or bc i havenāt been sleeping super well#the past few days i wake up in the middle of the night but im able to go back to sleep fairly quickly. but i STILL feel exhausted.#im supposed to talk about my lab results w my doc tmrw on the phone so. i hope everything is okay but tbh i wouldnāt be surprised if#something wasnāt optimal. my iron was okay last time i checked it though. sigh i just idefk anymore.#im sick of everything. im irritable for no reason. i donāt wanna do anything. like anything. i just want to rot in my bed#and even my interests are slowly slipping away from me. writing? couldnāt care less if i donāt write anything for the rest of the year tbh.#reading? i couldnāt even care to browse the shelves when we went to the bookstore the other day and it scared the shit out of me#kpop? meh.#i have a massive to do list and uni starts in a month and i have no energy. + dealing with my own brain and nonsensical thoughts on top#of that. overthinking anxiety all that super great stuff.#im also sick of putting in 110% into my relationships and getting half of it back. family friends whoever. and it makes me so sad. +#i feel like nobody even understands me. or even tries to or wants to.#im just tired#sick and tiredddddd#actually a bit sick too my throat hurts#anyways whatever#itāll be fine i guess#i donāt want to give up but i donāt have any desire to push through im sort of just. floating. ill deal with it when i deal with it#ā” dear diaryā¦
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It's insane how most of the time I don't get how ppl interact and I also Don't Fucking Care
#vent ig#i wish i could#but unfortunately i havent had the occasion of sharing one of my interest with you in the past three months and when i did it didnt go as i#wanted and now we're supposed to talk through smalltalks except i dont know how to do those so im awkward as hell and unconsciously cut the#short and now im being hated (?) even tho that wasnt my intent#but i guess no matter how trustful i am i just look like a liar#and i cant even bring myself to care bc how am i supposed to explain myself when youre convinced what i say is a lie#we werent even supposed to be this close so sorry if im stiff. i tried to get along but i just cant#the never ending circle between 'i want to have ppl to interact with being alone to experience this world is exhausting and dreadful' and#'im not even remotely interested by any of you'#its different on tumblr bc i can curate my own experience & nobody comes @ me when i dont interact with them for days or weeks (BC IVE GOT#NOTHING TO SAY) and its okay and its normal and we dont have to do the 'hi how are you wyd' script every single time (sure we can check up#on each other once in a while but it doesnt become a script. it feels genuine.)#anyway. im so normal. i can def care about ppl that have never been as insane as me about something we both love(d at some point)#am pretty sure i developed 'i perceived you saying/thinking One(1) bad thing about me and now i dont care at all about your existence' as#a child as a coping mechanism but goddammit i feel like an asshole everytime it happened#i hate feeling apathetic#and i hate lying too so i cant just say shit to reassure them when i dont mean them#cant tell them im sorry about how my behavior is perceived when im so damn tired and would rather they disappear of my life
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Would I be proving my therapist (who has been voicing some concerns about my depression maybe getting worse but like I feel like it's fine) right by cancelling my appointment tomorrow cause I just don't wanna. Like all I have to report is that I'm tired and I wanna rest and I just don't really feel like it y'know
#unrelated to the flu shot but i'm certain i'll feel it tomorrow#idk i've been in a weird state lately where i get really excited about my art and i get super talkative in general#i feel peppy and enthusiastic and excited and then i just crash. HARD.#it feels like all the years of being a shut-in finally catch up to me all at once and it's like apocalyptic hellfire all consuming agony#and nobody is ever gonna love me again bc i refuse to allow it and the lights are too bright in public spaces.#i feel like i'm not really a person outside of my interests and my artwork. i forget that i'm like. a being.#i think i'm also just annoyed bc i'm gonna be Doing Things. already so soon it's gonna be halloween#and i have plans w my sisters and their friends and later i'll be spending the night at my sister's#and i do want to do all that. but it pisses me off that i had waste time today and will have to tomorrow#when i could be drawing. i should have been drawing. i cannot emphasize enough actually#how artwork is just. the one and only thing that makes me feel connected to people.#that brings me joy and purpose like nothing else. so i just get extra upset if i'm gonna be doing too many things LMFAO#and as i say all this like damn milo some people have jobs. i used to. a lifetime ago.#but to be so real i've gotten so much worse. at. everything.#man sometimes i can't even tolerate being at one of my sisters' place bc she doesn't have lamps.#so i just have to chill in the dark in an adjacent room and it's like Fine.#but why can't everyone live by MY rules.#if i skip out on therapy tomorrow i should cancel tonight. i guess i'm just split about it.#like. it's clear i have things to talk about. but man i just don't fucking WANT to. i'm SICK OF IT#it's more of the same and then some. my circumstances will never change bc i'm in hell. okay.#who CARES .......#who GIVES a shit..........#ect.
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who could possibly have seen it coming that the first thing in literal ages that i would be so obsessed with i actually am able to cross the first and most major hurdle to amv making. getting scenes. that that thing would be cbs firefighter drama fire countryā¦
#well i would have guessed whatever it would be would be something literally no one else gives a fuck about#i ONLY make amvs for shit nobody else on here has ever seen#audience of ME and my beloved mutuals who support me without knowing what iām talking about#i donāt even think i need to say what song. easy fucking guess. me when iām transparent because i only care about 2 things
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why does every femslash ship always have people who go āthey look like sistersā or even insist that those characters ARE sisters (literally just pulling that info out of their ass)
like i hate to be that annoying lesbian but if this goes for Every sapphic ship you encounter that may be something you need to rethink. possibly. probably . but what do i know
#idk no platform is ever fully Normal about letting people ship what they want but i feel on tumblr thereās more of a leniency#like in the qsmp fandom people have ships on here that people would be clutching their pearls at on other platforms lmao#(mutuals who were in the trenches i see you and ily mwah mwah)#so itās just so weird to see this being used as essentially an āum actuallyš¤āļøā type of thing#when itās like who gives a shit. nobody cares my guy let that person have their femslash ship in peace#i realize this is like me building off of my tags on that my melody & kuromi clip lol. i have A Lot to say about this i guess#my ted talk
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hi itās my birthday tomorrow
#had to redo this since someone left a comment that bummed me out a lot#wellā¦ didnāt HAVE to but I didnāt like seeing the notification#guess I could have just deleted their commentā¦ shitā¦ didnāt think about that#hey uhhhh please donāt be mean to me about my birthday. Iām just a sad lil guy š„ŗ#I already dislike my birthday. I hate feeling older. like Iām wasting my life.#itās already usually an afterthought since itās Christmas Eve#but with my momās surgery itās even more of an afterthought and Iām so stressed and I have to take care of my bros and Iām just not great š¬#likeā¦ what do I even want to do tomorrow?#Iād love to just sleep in and eat junk and maybe go see a movie#but I have to go drive 40 minutes to see my mom and if I try to cut the visit short Iāll just feel guilty#soā¦ I guess Iām spending my birthday watching my mom shake and cry in pain š¤·š»āāļø#which can be okay! I mean not okay but I can 100%ā¦ wellā¦ 85% live with that. itās okay. itās just a day.#but fuck does it hurt when people just ignore it or downplay it or make jokes about my birthday this year#people donāt have to care about my birthday. strangers online donāt have to care. itās whatever.#and Iām not even mad at anyone in particular. I justā¦ yeah.. I just canāt take negative jokes about it right now.#Iām trying not to be specific! I donāt want to be mean! nobody is being mean to me! itās okay!#im just a sensitive baby that just wants people to be nice to him for the next 24 hours#ā¦. Iām sad!#I think Iāll just be mean to everyone tomorrow#ā¦. lol like I could do that. pfffttt Iāll bend over backwards for my family and Iāll be glad to do it. mostly.#itāll be okay#days are 24 hours. Iām sure I can squeeze some good stuff in between the bad. thatās life babyyyy#and I love you and I appreciate you to no one in particular and Iām sorry Iām so sensitive#my mutuals are great#youāre all great. unless you arenāt. but we wonāt talk about that.#ok you can ignore this#text
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