tres|3|trois

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i used to eat the way heroin addicts shoot up.

in mijas, we lived across from the little cake shop that sold the best baked goods in town. the smell of hot, fresh pasteries was appetisingly scrumptious after a day of school. "la pastelería" was the main suspect for my weight, i suppose. well, that and the habit of eating mamá's baking choc chips raw.

papá announced our move to england about thirteen months ago. at first, it seemed so far away, but time decided to bite me in the ass and roll around quick. at ten months till our move i became so anxious of england, of london's bustling crowds and busy streets, la pastelería was discarded like a wet piece of paper. the only thing on my mind was how much i did not want to go. on my last few days in mijas i ate so little all i could feel was light headed.

13 months ago i was 145lbs. i was happy, but still a little anxious without the knowledge of moving. now i am always tired and always anxious but there is no real problem here, right?

inside me, there are two wolves. one is love, compassion and desire. the other is jealousy, sadness and hurt. they are constantly fighting, brawling to the death. sometimes i question: who dominates? the answer: the one i feed.

my weight now lies at 115 pounds.

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in honour of 1K followers here is another update <3

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