I desperatly Want to marry Khal Drogo.
And a little bit of further ranting
I don’t know why I did it: I decided to leave my old self behind (why I did THAT I know) and to celebrate this I decided to look one last time on the Felice Fawn tag.
Jesus fucking christ.
I used to follow her blog because of the images she posted and - yes I admit- because of her thinness.
Still I never wanted to be her and still don’t want. Of course, she has some etheral beauty but lets be honest: She is sick.
I bet she would want to prefer being happy to being thin. And I hope she will be some day.
But that is not the point. The point is all the fucking tumblr drama.
What is all that “I love her” “She is scum” “she is a scammer” bla bla about.
God, she is an internet persona. Calm your tits.
Just unfollow and leave her and her fans alone. What is all the hate about?
I mean, if there are people in need of a questionably rolemodel and choose her - so be it. Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan won’t be any better.
It’s not important who the true felice is, important is what she represents. That might be not of your taste. That’s okay and I perfectly understand why.
But let us be honest: obsessing is always bad. It is bad to worship her and equally shitty to obsess about hating her.
Just get on with YOUR lives. Sort your rubbish out before you focus on someone else - and as soon as you coped with your own trouble you won’t feel the need to bicker anymore. The only thing you will feel is pity- and maybe some annoyance when you think about the fact that hundreds of people seem to spend their day searching “the real origin” of this and that.
I will shout down my computer now and GO OUT WHERE THE SUN IS. (if it is rainy where you are: grab a book.). Geez.
I stopped posting on this blog mainly because I decided to leave anorexia behind. I mean, I used to be permanently online to look at thin women and think: “Well if you were not that weak… if you just would leave your recovery-way you could have been so beautiful too”
Yeah. Right. Than I would not be able to walk for ours through the forests. I wouldn’t be able to play with the kids I look after.
I wouldn’t be able to go out with friends and eat something with them. In general I wouldn’t go out because I am too fat and weak.
I would spend hours upon hours in front of the mirror crying.
No no no. NEVER AGAIN.
Dear Ana, fuck you Forever and ever and ever an eveeeeerrrrrrrr
I have grown up. I don’t need you. I found better things to obsess about. Like protecting my environment, loving friends and family. Like spending my time outside, like reading books and writing.
I am not my body. It is part of me but it is not me.
So yeah, I may be fat but I keep rolling rolling rolling yeah.
I know that depression will kick in from time to time. So be it. I brace myself.
And I will breathe life with my lungs filled with power and I will scream strong words and jump over the broadest part of the river.
Sooo, I may be posting some thin women again but not because of their bodies but because of the photos themselves, if they present something beautiful or strong.
But if you are looking for depressive anastuff, feel free to unfollow.
