s t a r v i n g || y o o n m i n

二十二

I have a new obsession.

Anyone here watches Miraculous Ladybug?

-

The image shown was very much, far, from what Jimin had expected. It was definitely an eye opening experience that should have happened a long time ago. But it never appealed to him nor did he muster up the courage to really look at the image displayed, was something out of a graveyard.

He was all so unrecognizable, Jimin didn't know what could had gone wrong. He wanted to look more fit, more skinny. What could had happened? He thought.

There was no glow in his dull, pale skin. He skin was sagging instead of tightly wrapping around his bones. His birds' nest of hair was the result of excessive use of dry shampoo - the brittle blonde pieces making it look more worse than it should.

Soon the unfamiliar body was seeping deeper into his mind, burning his eyes as a photo online he saw a few years back, when he was 'researching' ways to lose the spare tire. (Considering he had nothing left to lose.)

When was the last time he smiled, the unanticipated question popped up. He looked so... sad. Later, he smiled once. And immediately erased it when he saw that it was no where near identical to his own mother's as it was years ago when he was in elementary school.

Scary, to say the least, upon realization that so much had changed since then. So many undeniable transformations that Jimin used to throw under the bus. His mind was remerging to find the initial goals he had.

Was this enough?
Has he reached he target of an ideal body?
Or was it not?

Words of despair and hatred swarm vigorously into his poor mind that was already packed with an endless amount of anxiety.

So much that his hands rushed up towards to his head, as if he was steadily balancing himself from the tornados that was crashing his chaotic world, leaving behind such misery that left him experiencing defenselessness.

Knees were slowly touching the floor, eyelids were glued tightly together, the only thing that was visibly in motion was his agony drowning him in deep dark waters.

At this point, breathing exercises were utterly useless. The disgust he had for himself was very common, but the trauma he was experiencing was like no other.

'Look at yourself! You're nothing but a bag of bones!'

'If you hate yourself so much, why are you having fun?!'

'You're useless. Can't even follow simply rules accurately!'

'Hideous. Just disgusting.'

"P-please-e-e... H-help..." Jimin whimpered, curling himself into a ball on the cold hard floor.

The voices were becoming too overwhelming, like a time-ticking bomb that would only lead to a massive breakdown of Park Jimin.

He did not want this, he hated it. But he had come to realize that maybe the hatred towards these thoughts will never overthrown the hatred he had for him. Comparing which was biggest was impossible.

It was too painful to be forced to contend with.

-

Just as the final lecture note was presented, Yoongi just had to go to the restroom because apparently, trying to hold his bladder for the past three hours after drinking a full jug of lemonade seemed like a challenge: accepted, but ended up costing him the last part of an important lesson.