flow

so i tried induced vomitting a while ago. i think i'm naturally anti-vice. fingers as far back in my throat as i dare, ten times as least. gagging, certainly. heaving, sometimes. but nothing coms out. probably only the equivalent of a fry.
ate too much, too much. i need to get it out. i can't puke it out. i can't concentrate.
oh food.. why do you torment me so.
two trips to the toilet, and counting. fingers too short? there're always other tools to use. a toothbrush? a pen? things that can go into my throat, make me heave everything out.
the same. it's the same don't you see? you don't, because the fries block your eyes. the fries which i have just consumed, fried in oil. i can't, and i can't wait. and i can't. i want to run away from it all. to distant my eyes from the self, watch me from the outside, observe myself, and see. i want to see me from the perspective of a water bottle. of my notes. of strangers. what do they see when they see me?
do they see the pig  who ate too much?
do they see the sloth who is struggling with assignments?
do they see the glass, cracked and dusty?
do they see girl who tries too hard?
or do they not see me at all?