There's no question about what I'm going to do next. Words don't mean a thing and therefor promises are empty without actions but still I dare to sware that by the time June rolls around, all I'm going to be is a shadow. A shadow that nobody pays attention to, a shadow without needs or wishes.

Today, in this very moment, I am an elephant. I am everything that the word 'huge' represents. There is absolutely nothing beautiful, delicate or fragile in me. I am a pile of fat and that's it. I don't deserve to have a name, I don't deserve anything. My dreams are nothing. I am nothing. I deserve nothing. I am so sick of my fucking life.

I am so very fucking sick of it.

As I stated yesterday, I needed a second opinion of my so called weight loss. I weighed myself in my friend's bathroom today and the scale, to my great surprise, said I had lost 12 pounds instead of 10. I still wasn't sure of what to believe and when I visited my sister later this evening I got my third opinion. 12 pounds lost. I got home and weighed myself over and over again which is unbelievably lame and stupid since the number didn't change.

12 pounds lost in two weeks.

I don't know what to think. Where have I lost those pounds? Where? All I see is more fat covering my arms, my legs, my fingers.. I'm covered with fat and I can't do anything about it. I'm growing and growing, endlessly and rapidly. I don't care about the scale anymore. Numbers can't be trusted. I know what I see when I look at myself. I feel the fat pile up. I don't know what to do anymore.

The air feels heavy and wet, the sun burns my skin and feeds my fat. I feel like a balloon. I feel like a big red balloon and I wish somebody would pinch me with long fingernails already. 

À tout à l'heure.

Somehow, I lost 10 pounds in two weeks. I'm beginning to suspect if the scale is right. Maybe it's broken. I can't see a difference in the mirror, I never can. I don't know what to believe anymore. Tomorrow I will find a way to make sure how much I've really lost; maybe I'll weigh myself secretly in my friends's bathroom. Yes. That is exactly what I'm going to do.

Even if I really have lost 10 pounds, it's nothing really. It doesn't even show on this humongous body. 10 more, 20 more, 25 more, 30 more pounds and I'll be happy. 30 more pounds and I'll be gone. Hopefully.

Oh Mila, you have no idea how much I hate you.

Besitos.

I hate you Mila.
I hate you.