between love and hate
some days i just wish i was somewhere else. not a different city or university or body or anything. ok, well sometimes a different body. but, i just wish somehow the place where i am... was slightly different. subtle ways. i dont know. i make no sense.

i got distracted by the idea of having a different body. dont get me wrong. i love my body as much as i can right now. take that as you will. i love certain parts, ive come to love more and more... not sure if i like it as a whole yet. and i know theres something wrong with piecing apart my body. but im not immune to the rest of society. while i try, its impossible to escape the... well, the everything. sometimes i fall into the guilty pleasure of sitting around with other girls and picking apart our bodies. it is a guilty pleasure. the worst guilt. the sickest pleasure. maybe criticizing my body is one way i try to negotiate with it. try to get used to it. its silly how i should have to try to get used to a body that i have had for my whole life. ok, parts have grown and changed... but something about this idea of negotiating with MY BODY... it is pretty messed.

some days i want to be voluptuous. i want to have a belly and i want to shake my booty. i look at other girls and how they carry their bodies... i want to emulate some of what i see. and then other days... i want to lose the belly, sweat off the booty... and be thinner. something about thin people... the same way smokers seem oddly attractive. something sickly about it. its the whole dark poet thing. iunno. and other days still, i want to lift weights and get stronger. someone shut me up.

i wish my body felt more like me.

i also find it really weird the way skin isnt as sensitive as i thought. when i bend my elbow my skin doesnt feel the touching that happens. my skin doesnt feel itself touching itself. at least not very strongly. its tripping me out.