so this one time, in vietnam, i was drunk. at 4:30am. i was drunk. but hussh-up you. that’s neither here nor there. this post is to post about two things. things i probably wouldn’t have the ballz to post about if my head wasn’t spinning.
so. there i was, sitting on this beautiful beach with a boy from the isle-of-man. [did you know they have their own currency? because i did not. also, did you know they’re not part of england? because I did not. oh, and. do you know where they’re located? because i do not…] anywho, marc (with a c), from the isle-of-man and i were sitting under the biggest, brightest stars one had ever seen, on a beautiful, golden sand beach in vietnam, talking about this, and that. and then he kissed me. so i kissed back. obviously. because it was fun. and lalalalal. then. then he goes, where’s your hotel? and I can’t remember (actually) and a switch goes off in him. to which i say, did you honestly think i would sleep with you? and his answer… well, you have a nose piercing.
so, I met some australians (shocking) and am traveling down the coast of Vietnam with them. they’re nice. i like them a lot. but. but one of the girls is anorexic. i’m certain of it. i swear. so the first night she met the group (at breakfast over waffles) she told us she was super hungover and thus couldn’t eat. legit. so legit. we’ve all been there. then. then she claims the food in vietnam is getting to her. but it’s been 7 days now and really truly the girl has hardly eaten anything. like, at all. i think i’m the only person who has picked it up (silly boys), but it’s bad. so bad. and she is tiny. so tiny. gaunt and too skinny for anyone’s own good. it’s hard to look at her. she looks sick. too skinny. so yes. i’m constantly battling myself not to eat everything in sight. while she’s battling herself probably to try and eat something. anything. two extremes. two girls with issues. she always has an excuse not to eat. i always have an excuse to eat. people are different, so different. but i watch her. a lot. it interests me if i’m telling you the truth. the excuses. the lies. the constant stories as to why she can’t eat. it must get exhausting. mind you, constantly eating everything, then your mind filling with regret is exhausting too.
those are my stories. takes as you will…