Monday, 5 December 2011

Just about every guy I cross stares at my ass. And they're at least 50 years older than I am.

I mean, seriously! And my mom bought a pair of shorts (and they can't even be qualified as shorts, more like underwear) with flower prints on my ass. Honestly, fuck the hell off and go stare at your own wife. Don't stare at me. I'm 50 years younger, so go home and be jealous. DO NOT EVER SHOW IT IN FRONT OF ME.

Also this thing about my mom always waking up on the wrong side of the bed, coming upstairs, yelling at me for doing BIOLOGY (Well sorry if the human urinary system and its parts don't agree with you, mom) then going downstairs, still yelling at me, and then later in the afternoon telling me to fucking strip myself and go parade outside. Seriously, if you desire that kind of thing THAT MUCH, go do it yourself. Also about telling me to be a prostitute. Please, I thought you wanted me to be a fucking doctor.

And I'm so sorry for everyone who tried to keep me away from it. I really couldn't. And so I've officially broke my streak, and after the scars heal, I'll start from day 1. I know this will never be enough to say how sorry I am because I'm such a fucked up person. And it's not like I don't have people out there carrying a small portion of my enormous burden, trying their level best to lighten that burden. It's not like I don't have people praying for me. It's not like I don't have people always telling me not to cut, always checking the inside of my left wrist. But left to my own devices, with such an emotion at the time, I'm really, really, really sorry, Killjoys. I know a simple sorry will never do, and I'm sorry to have shattered your rainbow-splattered/black little hearts.

I've done it again, and I have to reset the timer, go back to day 1.

I really love you guys, and I want you to know that. I just couldn't take it anymore, and it was so innocent, just sitting by itself over there... I only remember standing up, and then there was blood in the sink. And on the blade. It made me dizzy for a while, and I don't remember what happened after that, only that I staunched the flow of blood, went back upstairs, got yelled at a little more, and then went back to physics. And no one noticed.

I want to thank everyone who's been here for me, and I want to ask of you guys one more thing.

Please, bear with me and help me. I'm trying, I really am, but numbers meant nothing once the first incision was made. Thank you all for your encouragement, and I pray and hope you guys will not give up on me.



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