When everything's cocked up, you just fuck your wrists with nail clippers.
You don't really cut yourself until you bleed though. You don't wanna die....yet.
You just hope someone will see these scars however small they may be.
You're getting impatient, life doesn't wait for me, you think.
Your computer lags when it's 9pm, you're tired....of life. You need to complete an essay.
This, aggravation....Fuck essays, you think again. Fuck suddenly becomes the only vocabulary you know.
You unplug the computer ungently and start it up.
Fuck the computer, you scratch yourself with nail clippers again.
You used to laugh at people who cut their wrists, for what? so stupid, cut liao also never die.
The pain doesn't relief you, you know that. It only hurts you even more.
But you need the attention. The self solace.
You know being angry isn't going to solve anything. But there's just too much hate.
That's why the littlest things are making you pissed and upset right now, maybe you just want some excuses to vent it all out.
Parents don't understand a fuck. They will truely never understand no matter what teachers tell you.
You want to tell the problems to someone. But you can't figure out all of them.
You hope to tell it to someone. But he probably will not care.
Even if he does.......the worst part is, you can't tell him.
You don't want him to be disappointed in you.
That is, if he still cares.
But even if he doesn't. Everyone will be disappointed in you.
Because you're disgusted with yourself.
Because, you did something that you will regret for life.
It's will never be over for you because......
because you can't wash it away. you can't burn it away.
You can't scratch it away with nail clippers.
But you're really very disgusted with yourself that you...no matter how many times you want to slap yourself you just wish you didn't do it at all.
You are a sinner now. It's getting really tormenting.
You still can't tell this to the only person you can find comfort in.
That's....the worst?
No, there are more screwed up kids out there in the world like those poor kids, starving kids, homeless kids, abused kids,
but why are you too?
Who are you to say that you're suffering.
I should really get on to my essay,
but I kind of felt that blogging this out was worth my time.
Kind of.
i am tired but isn't everyone?
If others can be happy, why can't I?
I do not need a break.
