I’m not gonna... eat that pasta. I’m not... gonna eat it. I’m... not gonna eat... Not this time. I chew on these words, force them through my head. Where people have delicious meals, I have plain, dull meals. I'm always at home, eating another meal alone, with constantly repeat of the word CONTROL and a plate of chicken & brown rice. Not forgetting is another jug of water. This is only my second week and I’m sick of it already.

Chew slowly follow by water. Chew and water. And I keep repeating that. This is my method. This is my form of control. This is the system. Listen, the toughest part isn’t the workout. Yes, cardio or lifting can be tough, but it is nothing compare to eating. It’s the diet. The way of eating. Diet is what differentiates success and failure.

I'm hungry again... Why does this always happen? The feeling of starvation and the loud roar in my stomach is killing me. I envy others who get to eat whatever their heart desires without putting on additional pounds. The food I'm having now is always dry and tastes like shit, but at least there is still something in there. Some days, I'm so hungry that I force myself to sit and stare. I break out in a cold sweat. I have to will myself to stop. Yeah, living like this is real agony.

People in the other world, they don’t understand. They can’t. They eat instinctively. For me, eating is another part of my life that must be controlled. I’ve had to learn how to eat, overcome my appetite. It sounds fucked up, but that’s what I gotta do to prepare for this. It sucks and I’ve still got miles to go.