25. The fat girl's new 30
I think back on the year. Or more like the 6 months out of college.
And I see this girl. This girl fighting her way thru the working world and the working people. Heck. Breathing already seems like a constant struggle.
I can't say that I'm very happy how the year is going to end.
I'm still a heavy smoker.
I worry that with each ciggie the cancer in me will manifest and grow, yet i can't stop myself from taking another puff.
I binge with hardly any guilt.
Knowing that fat and cellulite have become great friends of my thighs.
I still wish that I could be beautiful and sexy like all other girls.
Yet i can't be bothered to trim my eyebrows.
And my boyfriend.
He's great. Yet I don't know if being with him is really all that great.
I never ever get to win any fights. And he's so smart that everything seems like my fault.
Maybe it is. But it's funny how the problems just seems to be about me.
I miss being young and free and just dating really cool guys. Going to the movies or hanging out at the park or go clubbing or just bloody hanging out like punks.
Now i'm this oldie that goes for kopis and growl at young couples with jealous desire.
Where did Joanne go?
Why does it always seems that all the men I date, evenually break my spirit.
What happened to spunky me? Have I become so old that I can't even recognise myself?
I don't remember having fun for quite sometime.
I'm this 25 year old, overweight and looks like a mother of 3. Constantly dirty, without a trace of make-up on. Dirty finger nails, smelly hair and sticky sweaty skin. Can't buy new clothes cus I dun fit into them anymore and I can't afford them cus I have to buy ciggies everyday.
25. The fat girl's new 30.
And I see this girl. This girl fighting her way thru the working world and the working people. Heck. Breathing already seems like a constant struggle.
I can't say that I'm very happy how the year is going to end.
I'm still a heavy smoker.
I worry that with each ciggie the cancer in me will manifest and grow, yet i can't stop myself from taking another puff.
I binge with hardly any guilt.
Knowing that fat and cellulite have become great friends of my thighs.
I still wish that I could be beautiful and sexy like all other girls.
Yet i can't be bothered to trim my eyebrows.
And my boyfriend.
He's great. Yet I don't know if being with him is really all that great.
I never ever get to win any fights. And he's so smart that everything seems like my fault.
Maybe it is. But it's funny how the problems just seems to be about me.
I miss being young and free and just dating really cool guys. Going to the movies or hanging out at the park or go clubbing or just bloody hanging out like punks.
Now i'm this oldie that goes for kopis and growl at young couples with jealous desire.
Where did Joanne go?
Why does it always seems that all the men I date, evenually break my spirit.
What happened to spunky me? Have I become so old that I can't even recognise myself?
I don't remember having fun for quite sometime.
I'm this 25 year old, overweight and looks like a mother of 3. Constantly dirty, without a trace of make-up on. Dirty finger nails, smelly hair and sticky sweaty skin. Can't buy new clothes cus I dun fit into them anymore and I can't afford them cus I have to buy ciggies everyday.
25. The fat girl's new 30.
