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I think I just might.

In reference to my previous statement, addressing those who are insensitive and somewhat brain dead, I think I'm going to eleborate.
I'm hurt. I'm hurting, currently. Present tense. What happened? I'll tell you. Without names or specific situation, I'll give you words.

"sara, everytime I see you you've got something in your mouth."

Yes, I do. Because I'm experimenting with normality. If other kids are eating, I thought I might be able to as well. Thanks, though. It's always been my number one fear for people to notice when I'm eating? I've always thought that everytime something passed my lips, someone was thinking exactly what you just voiced.
I'll be sure to refrain from such an activity in the future.
You can be a team with "sara, you need something you can hide in" and "you look like you're pregnant"

"Hey! That medication you're taking...you're supposed to eat with it, right? I can tell you have been. Because you're not the way you said you might be. Try it sometime. Try just not eating for once, I want to see what you act like."

Hey! Fuck you....I've been trying that for the last six years. Until I found out my body is having some sort of identitity crisis. I found out that I might actually die from the aforementioned crisis, and yet, I still continue to be the most stupid human being on the planet other than you. This is why I don't tell people what the imbalance is. I'm scared they'll look it up and worry.
In death, size would not matter. Nor would feeling. I guess, consciously, that's why I try to cheat it. Because I want neither to matter in life.
Thanks. I didn't eat for the rest of the day because you aroused my curiosity. And I missed out on my great friend's birthday party because the floor felt like it kept coming up to meet me and I wanted to rip my skin off because of the way my stomach was trying to jump out my throat. I felt uneasy and nervous, more than usual, and I couldn't quite figure out whether my body was still attatched to my mind.
You don't want to see me like that, because you wouldn't notice any difference. I've become fairly adept at hiding pain and sickness.
Headaches are different.

So that's what happened to make me feel this way now. This weird and eerie calm that I know is hurt. I'm hurting because you got to the core of it without even trying. It's not fair, because not even I could say it so perfectly, knowing what I know about my feelings. I'm hurting because I just want to stop caring. Please. I want to eat without consequence. I want to feel what it's like to not be wanting.

Brent, don't feel that you have to have answers to everyone's questions. Sometimes we all need someone to just listen. Reassurance comes with knowing someone at least cares a little bit about what happens to you. This is obvious, yes, but here's to hoping you don't put too much responsibility on your words.
I know I've told you too much, and listened too little, and I'm probably a complete hypocrite. I'm sorry. You left before I could continue.
Why the hell do I repeat information a thousand times, you ask?
I'm never quite sure you believe me. Maybe you still don't.

p.s: I'm a huggy person too, I just don't normally initiate them. I'm too shy.

Kim, I hope your neice is ok....don't be sorry we couldn't hang out tonight. I spent the eving with my model car. Hot date that was. You should come over and help me build it. Won't that be fun? But no, we are going tobagganing with Chad and Trevor and Marcus.
Update your blog. Geez.
Oh, and Family Guy is rented out again.

Josh, come home for Christmas. It'll be fun.

That's all the people I feel a need to address.

No...wait....I lied. Everyone go to multimedia.srss.ca and watch "A Tale Of Two Hallways" and "Eos"
(in the archives)