for Sam Lupin, whose words, words not simply black against the oblivion of white, but words of a thousand shades, the color of flickering heat smoldering on dry logs, the indescribable color of the sea under the glare of the sun, leave me breathless and alive; the one who has always been there, a safe shelter in the midst of the darkest storms. Looking out into the night, a single candle against the emptiness, a star shining brightly, reassuringly; it reminded me of you. I wish I could describe how amazing, how much you mean to me and others, words fail me. Thank you for being you. <3
for Dani, always there with advice and kind words, not only a thinspiration, but an inspiration for being a beautiful person in spirit and body. You give me hope.
for Jackie, who has an incredibly sweet and caring heart, a shoulder to cry on, like an older sister I've always wanted. You're beautiful, never forget it.
for Just Jessica, Little Miss Thin, kes, alice ana, Alex, Olivia Lee, missinsanity, becca;, Marie, Neeska, Cinnamon Brown, Elle Marie, Thin Thighs, Beth, Lucy's Shadow, Ahava, Wings to Set me Free, Bones, thisismeskinny, amelia, lulu, Run, Catherine, Megs, Empty Shell, Jane Pansy, Rain, Tempest, Judith Marie, and all the beautiful ones out there.
I want you to know that you are are absolutely gorgeous, absolutely perfect, just the way you are. Although I've never seen any of you, I know you are beautiful people, because your words touch me, bring a smile to my face, and I can see the radiance of your personalities and love for others.
Thank you. <3
"You look so fragile. I could easily throw you over my shoulders and carry you," he said.
And I am fragile, in mind. As I walk, as I write, as I work, I fall into my own world. I wonder who I am, repeat my name until it seems familiar, until it fits again. I wonder what I am doing, how I got here. Driving down the road, the wheel feels so strange in my hands and the cars aren't real anymore.
People fade to the dull shade of a half-remembered dream. I look past them, through them. I glance at myself through a tinted distorted glass, disconnected and trying to link the pieces that crumbled. Running my hands over the dark denim covering my legs, paranoid that it's not actually a size 0, feeling the bones waiting to protrude, I am out of place in this body.
I crash back, falling hard onto the concrete of reality. Sometimes being alive, truly alive, is a sharp pain, a reminder of existence, the jagged edges of glass painted with a deep red of blood. Life hurtles itself, a frigid wind that we struggle to run against.
Harder and harder I try to lose my body, more and more of my mind slips away into a haze of thorns and pure nothingness.