All I can think of, is dropping weight. The 20 lbs I want to lose by mid-summer. The amount I want to work out before it gets extremely hot in this country and everyone starts walking around in crop tops and high waisted shorts. I can't stop thinking about it. Over and over and over. Numbing everything out. I'm abandoning this stupid plan I drew up the other night... it's pointless and just gives me more excuses to self-sabotage and get further away from my goals. I need to set up a proper schedule, STOP eating after 7pm and just get my head screwed on straight. Me and Charlie are joining a Virgin Active gym club near her house in July, because we have a whole month to waste and might as well use the time to shape up. We're gonna be gym-ing it as much as possible and eating clean. I'll be taking my art A level, she'll have her photography, I'm investigating more work experience in the film/threatre department, and both of us are gonna have a shot at the modelling thing. We're gonna travel and be free and look, permanently, like gorgeous models off duty. Life is going to work out. Next year will be beautiful, and I will make my life into a piece of art.

Lost track of how many times I've posted today. I just stepped on the scales to make myself feel even worse about my binge. 144.8 lbs. At nearly 2 in the morning. That means I will have gained two fucking pounds MINIMUM tomorrow. I think I need to stop blogging until I am in the 130s again. I'm miserable like this and have nothing inspiring or motivational to say, I'm just a mess. I feel like I need to just go with my instincts again. For a little while. I love you all and see you soon. <3