| jesus. cut. |
soundtrack - medal - 'porno song'
hmm. i sit with blood dripping down my right leg. it's thick and dark, like it died in there, dark and evil against the pale skin of my leg. i was so miserable today. [i still *am*]. i just felt.. bad. got told off for swearing in Psychology [college has a free speech policy so it was strange..] after sitting with some first year beautiful people who know everything, dahlink. the day just went more bleh from then. i had a bad feeling the moment i woke up under a sleeping bag on fee's living-room floor. she has a backbone of steel; people glare at us because we don't wear positively metallic bright blue eyeshadow - i don't dress like fee, i dress like me, but it seems enough for me to hang around her and appear to be having fun for me to be added to the hitlist; we arrived at the bus stop this morning for college and i don't think i've ever been glared at in... unison, surround-sound before. ouch. i think it was this afternoon that really did it. first, i read that message from audrea in my guestbook, which really hurt and made me want to die. then, i realised i had double work again this weekend to save up for the ticket that i now seem not to need anymore. i got an email from a uni saying that i couldn't get in with my predicted results next year. everything began to look really... pointless. sat on the bus dreaming of blades. seriously. i wanted to come home and just start cutting until i died from loss of blood. i wanted to chop and slice my skin until it was just a patchwork quilt of pain and bruised skin, bruised beneath the knife that bleeds. medal 'drumspring' doesn't really help the situation. 'is your soul in your head' is on next, whoopee. i might add another criss-cross to the bizarre decoration of red lines on my leg. why not. no one's ever going to see it. ever. the blood splashes down my skin like tears on my windowpane. sigh. i have sorted out my work at mcdonalds to 4 hours a week instead of 12 or more. yeyness. a fresh blood-stained tissue srunched up like rose petals scattered on the grass beckons to me over the bed covers. i can't cut on my arms now. i had to stop about a month ago. now i just do my legs, but when winter hits, i'm really going to do my arms too. hopefully i'll bleed to death one day. funny i should die from the one thing that makes me feel alive. i'm feeling quite pathetic. please excuse me. |
