Last night was full of odd conversations, some cut off too quick.. others lingered on a bit..

I didn't sleep.. I tried.. I just have a lot on my mind.. A thought entered my mind.. am I a possible candidate for a fate similar to someone I loved? Not identical.. but similar.. along with the carrying of sadness, guilt, and fear.. yet to only be lessened by small boosts of something to get by. A way of living that causes those who care for you so much grief.. which I know first hand. I don't think I am on this road.. but until earlier.. I never saw it as a possibility.

So i've been up for forever and a day.. this weekend is a weekend alone.. the first time i've really been alone in weeks.. well at least 2. I leave when the weekend is over.. back to California.. there is so much I should do, there is so much I want to do.. and part of that is nothing.

Sleep, except that first afternoon.. along with food have been something that hasn't been found in my grasp since I've been home. It's like.. argh.. I am going to be up front with my actions. I refuse to hide what I do. When I was away, I ate 2 meals a day, and I slept every night. Why can't I seem to do this as part of a normal routine.. why must both of these things haunt me..

I know why.. because of this fucked up need I have to make everything think things are ok.. "Don't worry about me".. smile smile.. It's so hard to do something like go on one of my fasting weekends.. and not talk about it.. because it builds.. but the more it builds.. the more fearful I get of scaring people.. like.. I mean someone is going to notice if we go to dinner and I don't eat.. and I have been with them all day and I haven't eaten.. that might even be disturbing. When I fast alone.. I get my nutrients.. I look full of energy and happy and healthy.. and no one wonders when my last meal was.. "Oh, I ate just before I saw you.." It's not like I do it every day.. I mean it's not healthy.. but it's certainly healthier than other things I can be doing.. I know this.. it doesn't make it ok.. but as long as I keep it under control..

Mother always said I'd be very attractive
When I grew up, when I grew up.
"Diff'rent," she said, "With a special something
And a very, very personal flair."

And though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
I hated her.

Now, "Diff'rent" is nice, but it sure isn't pretty.
"Pretty" is what it's about.
I never met anyone who was "diff'rent"
Who couldn't figure that out.
So beautiful I'd never lived to see.

But it was clear, If not to her,
Well, then... to me... But

Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.
Every prince has got to have his swan.
Yes, Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.

Up a steep and very narrow stairway
To the voice like a metronome.
Up a steep and very narrow stairway

It wasn't paradise...
It wasn't paradise...
It wasn't paradise...

But it was home.

- "At The Ballet", A Chorus Line