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Monday, January 5, 2009

Dreams

I am a vivid dreamer. Usually I wake up and can recite everything that happened in my made up fairy tale to pin point detail. Maybe it's a gift or maybe it's just that I have an over active imagination.

My current dream is I'm the 800 pound woman and bedridden. My mother is forced to lift my fat rolls to bathe me, helps me use the bathroom, and brings me food throughout the day. One day a wall in our house is cut out in order for the paramedics to save me. I am somehow wheeled onto a forklift and being driven through downtown Houston. On the way to a fat clinic....I die.

What does this mean? The only conclusion I can come to is that food is killing. I'm an addict....a food addict. Food is like crack (not that I know what crack does to you) and I can't ever get enough. I'm one Twinkie away from being the 800 pound woman who is bedridden. I'm one Ho-Ho away from killing myself. It really is depressing!

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