l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle

Me: I lost 200g!
Changting: What are you? Ham?
Me: Yes, honey glazed.

Arhaha, interesting conversation isn't it? Anyway these few days I've been feeling quite down because I can't down the damn meal replacement into my stomach. And because of this, I probably can't lose four kgs in week anymore. So I'll still be as fat. Fatter perhaps.

Disappointment.. Disappointment.

Although most of my friends console me and tell me I'm not fat, but I know it better than anyone else. I look at my naked (and fat) body every day in the bathroom. It doesn't look nice. My boyfriend often urge me to go and do something about it instead of sitting around, whining about my fats. But I'm lazy. It makes me damn sad. Yes, stupid to be sad when I am the one who did not bother to make the first step. It's really very sad and each time I think about what my boyfriend said. I try to cut down on my intake of food. I am determine to stop drinking Starbucks (or maybe just once in a month) and I don't eat rice during dinner. I have a huge bum and my thighs are thick. I look unslightly. I look like a disaster whenever I wear sleeveless tops. I have a tummy bulging out no matter how hard I try to suck it in. And now, even though I adore potatoes like how I adore Brad Pitt, I have to stop eating them because they make me extra fat. I walk up the stairs to my house if I'm not feeling sleepy and I really want to shed those fucking fats.

(This part is where I got really angry and almost spoilt my keyboard.)
Why must all the fucking TV portray slimness as the epitome of good looks for a woman? Why is it that all the programmes, magazines only feature nice clothes that only the slim can wear? (because fat people probably can't find their size.) So the obese ones don't want to look good also? Yes, I am fucking upset at myself because I am a big fat lazybum. I refuse to exercise. I brought this upon myself. I'm an oaf who likes to whine about my life but can't be bothered to do anything about it. I am going to stay a fat bitch and die a fat bitch. And when I'm on my deathbed, the only regret I'll have is that I was never able to see myself slim. Thanks to myself.

Thank you Gladys. For fucking up your fat life because you never bothered enough.

P.S: I hope you all won't think that I'm going mad or something. I just needed to get it off my chest.
P.S.S: Please don't sympathise me. I don't need sympathy. Thanks.