hungry hungry hell

i must resolve not to peer at the backs of things i'm eating. i can't be bothered with caloric content; it's not my fault that i scarf. i'm growing baby (babies). lasagne last night and ugh. i was truly convinced that, within moments, i would emit an uncontrollable, unending gush of steaming, chunky vomit all over him, me, the cats. face stuck in a cup, waiting to hurl and this is totally voluntary.
i'm glad for my spearmint chewies. i need about 12 pounds.
i don't want anything with flavor. chocolate is aversive today. peanut butter, too. and cheese, fruit, spices. i want everything so bland, so dry, so useless. i want everything devoid of substance to go down quickly and absorb the waves. watch me start eating the papers on my desk.


i wrote so much and it was somehow deleted. what the fuck? perhaps i'll have energy to post again later. presently, i'm too deflated.