Dear god, the more I think and research the more I realize others are right, and I should, I do want to trade this organic machine for something mechanical, or ethereal. Even my favorite pleasure of food is repulsive to me right now; I could learn to adapt, fill in the time somehow as a disembodied mind or having a needless body. But it hurts so much learning the reality of my form... a form I found fascinating just minutes ago...

And now I'm grasped with this desire to throw myself into the physical, to reject disgust (some Buddhist things I just read talk about the inherent loathesomeness of the body and of food...I'd be a hypocrite if I said I didn't believe in inherence, but I'm not sure about labelling things as inherently disgusting... just disgusting to the more refined mind). I want to exercise, beautify and cleanse myself, stuff myself with food... I can't explain why.

I know I need to stop writing, I always go crazy like this. I've never had a problem with being encased in a flesh machine until now, and the thought of not having one is terrifying though preferable. Maybe I need to die, get away from everything. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.