"All the Haagen Dazs in all of New Jersey couldn’t make her feel any better", but it was sure worth giving it a shot. She was so hungry, so angry. Whenever she felt frustrated or angry - angry enough to kill people, she would suddenly get really hungry. Hungry enough to eat them.She walked and walked for what seemed like eternity. She felt limb-less and light and thought she might die if she held her breath long enough, but nothing happened. It was fucking freezing and she felt as though she'd reached a zen-like state of harmony. Internal and external blue. Lips trembling and all, frozen and numb, teeth knocking in accord with her footsteps, feeling miserable and looking the part too.
The cruelest sorrow of all, she thought, was the kind that didn't play on other people's sympathy. When you're not poor, not a minority, not sick, not hungry, not homeless, not anything sympathetic like that. When you're deeply disturbed but not to the point of hearing voices or slashing a wrist. When you're healthy and white and educated and seemingly full of potential to have had a full and satisfying life, but you're not satisfied and when you feel full you mostly just want to vomit.
It is too damn much responsibility when everything is entirely your fault and there's no one to blame because your fucking parents didn't put out a single butt on your butt and you wish they had, because then at least you'd have an excuse. Then at least you have someone other than yourself to blame for what you've become. She so wanted to fucking die already, to never have been and then she saw it, it was the sign she's been waiting for, calling to her, from less then a block away.
