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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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				old ghosts
			        ----------

	[ vignette ]

	i dated this guy for a long time. he used to beat me.
	it was kinda funny in a fucked up way, since at the time
	i was self-abusing. (you know, cutting and burning 
	yourself in order to feel pain, which is better than
	feeling nothing.) so, whenever the numbness started to
	rush over me, i would harass him until he punched me.
	once i remember being in the snow, wearing boxers and
	a tee shirt. no shoes. i wasn't allowed to wear shoes
	in case i ran away. i was on the ground cause he dumped
	me there. i had done something like not eat the food
	he brought me or some fucked up thing. he was wearing
	these huge combat boots, steel toed. i remember watching
	the boots hurtling toward my face and realizing that
	something was going to break once they caught me square
	enough. once he was done with my face he went after my
	ribs and belly. again and again. i didn't say anything.
	i just watched the snow fall and breathed in the cold
	air, allowing the crispness to fill my lungs.

	[ vignette ii ]

	i was in the shower. i like my showers hot, so hot that
	my legs are red and scalded when i get out. i hadn't
	eaten in three days. (anorexia is a bitch.) i felt faint.
	i knew i was gonna go. i called for my father, who
	thought i had soap in my eyes. he brought me a towel, but
	i couldn't see it. everything was going black. when i
	didn't reach for it he whipped open the shower curtain in
	time to see my eyes roll back into my head as i fell to
	the hard slippery porcelain. when i awakened, my mother
	gave me a glass of orange juice. i waited until she left
	and i flushed it down the toilet. then i got on the scale.
	92. only 15 more pounds to go. i admired my bones in the
	mirror.

	[ vignette iii ]

	i was running, running from the unit i had been assigned
	to. it was christmas eve. it was cold and dark. i didn't
	want to be there on christmas. they kept making me eat and
	they had to watch me piss. i hated it. one of the mhw's
	(mental health workers) caught up with me and threw me to
	the ground. (no no no) two others grabbed my legs and they
	dragged me to the isolation unit. the floor was concrete
	and the walls were made out of sheet rock. there was a
	single all cotton fouton in the middle of the room. it
	was the perfect place, so white. i smashed the walls over
	and over again with my elbows until they were blue and
	swollen. i screamed, a primal rage that tore my throat.
	i kicked a nurse in the stomach. they injected me and tied
	me to the bed. sleep. the next morning my mother arrived
	with christmas presents. my arms were torn and bloody.
	my face was black and blue. how could she love me? how
	could anyone?


	Palpable Obscure

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