Tomorrow.

Yeah. Tomorrow, I'll do something that I don't do since ... well ... Two weeks ? What ? Two weeks ? Haha no, I can't imagine ... 


So ... Two weeks that I don't weigh myself. I think I am at 47kg (103.6Lbs) 'cause my days are just : Bing. 
Today ? What I eat ? Ho ... Just a few a lot of biscuits, two balls more than ten balls of ice cream, drink a lot of tea hot chocolate and soya milk, I do more than one hour less than one minute of exercice ... I'm holidays so ... So that. 


Bad. My life is only a faillure. 

Only gain.

Feeling so depressed ...


I cut myself on friday for the first time : On the wrist and the (big) thight. The same word : Fail ; 'cause I'm just a waste which fail in all. 


I lose an important test, that's why I said to my mother that I don't deserve my red color which I ask since too long time, two years. That's why I cut my skin, that's why I don't do anything just stay on a chair looking depressing blog. 
I eat, and the consequence is gain, and the sadness doesn't quit. 


I'm lost. And I'm conscious that what I have written doesn't mean anything.