bigger chest, smaller waist
higher grades, lower weight
tighter sleeves, shorter skirts
higher heals, lower shirts
bigger eyes and smaller nose
more makeup, less clothes
“grow up”, “slow down”
“stay home”, “leave town”
with all that’s being thrown at…
Original quotey pictures. Weight loss journey. BED. Ana. Teenage girl stuff. You know, just general craziness.
I failed eating, failed drinking, failed not cutting myself into shreds. Failed friendship. Failed sisterhood and daughterhood. Failed mirrors and scales and phone calls. Good thing I’m stable.
— Wintergirls (via burythishurt)
Maybe I’ll revive this shit.
I miss smoking, the way I always had someplace to put my hands as I walked next to a boy who wouldn’t hold ‘em, the way my fingers would busy themselves at house parties where the only person I knew was the host. A cigarette used to be an invitation to strangers: come over this way, inhale with me. Now, instead, my digits dig deep in my purse for a slick black cellphone and they type meaningless messages to yet more strangers in many other rooms, jokes and quips in 140 characters or less until it’s time to go home. People talk to a girl with a cigarette, but a cellphone says I’d rather be anywhere but here, even on the internet, even places that don’t really exist. That’s not what I mean to express; it’s just that the cigarettes used to do my bidding for me and now I often find myself speechless, unsure of what to do.