Friday, August 28, 2009

Through the dissaproving look she sported, she managed one last sentence as she strode away and back into her busy life. "That weight looks awful on you."
I awoke with a start, my body in a state of panic. THAT weight? WHAT weight?
I ran my hands over my naked torso. It was a hot and humid summer and I had taken to forgetting about the mere existance of pajamas. My body felt smooth. It wasnt any different than the previous day. I took a deep breathe, rolled onto my side, grabbed a teddy bear and rocked myself back to sleep.
These dreams had been happening every night. Well not these exact same ones. Most of them involved getting on a scale and seeing a number that was unnaceptable. These dreams used to have specific numbers in them, but the numbers had vanished and sheer feeling had replaced it.
It had been years since the worst of it. Why was I having these dreams now? And further, when would they stop?

Monday, August 3, 2009

I find myself back here, grappling with the loss of a comrade. 28 years old and it makes me want to kick up some dust. It makes me want others to join me further than they already have. It makes me want a unified movement, coming together to say NO.
Michale was 28 years old when her heart stopped.
Eating disorders kill.

Dirge without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, --
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.