Warsong

I'm at battle with my body, and it's fighting back.

My arsenal of laxatives and starvation is no match for my beast of a body, which seems only to exist to return fire a hundred fold. Its weapons are my fat and my hunger pangs and the pain that wreaks havoc on my body nearly daily in a multitude of locations. Today's target is my bowels and urinary tract; the former feels as if it is constantly about to burst, the latter as if it is on a slow and cool fire.

It is a losing battle, but one I keep fighting with hasty attacks and ill-planned strategies. I keep fighting, because I am desperate to win, no matter how shoddy my odds.

If I win I will have beaten it, and I will be perfect, and I will probably be dead.

For now I'm K.O., and my body is doing a victory dance.