13.4.2000

It's raining!
It's funny, I'm never capable of reviewing some people's writing. I mean, Chaos_Pixie wrote a story and I knew exactly what was wrong with it and what I would have done differently. Instead, people like Rob and Eq., them I can't review. It's not that I thought they were so utterly good they couldn't better themselves but it's just impossible for me to say exactly what's wrong. They have such a different way of writing, I think. Different style. Oh, well. I can't write at all. That's a fact. Sometimes I wish I could put some poetry I've written on my page but I can't because a) I haven't written any poetry (for a long time; this depends on whether I decide to label that stuff as poetry) b) I utterly suck at writing poetry. I mean, I really suck.
Which is a relief, actually. Or it could be a relief, if I wanted it to be. I don't have to expose something to the whole internet and listen to comments on it. Sometimes I'd like to. I adore people who do (if it's even relatively good) because it requires such an effort. You can't just write down whatever you happen to think of, you have to work with it. I loved writing poetry in school but it was too straining to do IRL. I've always been terribly lazy when it comes to working on something.

I love rain. I love the sound our roof makes when the drops hit it. I had a Depeche Mode -night last night. To be more precise, 'Ultra' -night. I haven't listened to the record for quite a while now. It's not often that I have a feeling that exactly matches some record I own. Last night I had. It had to be Depeche Mode and it had to be Ultra. No other record was any good. Which is a bit weird because Ultra isn't even my favourite DM record.

Um, gotta study. I planned a few rants last night (well, I had nothing better to do) but if I do write them, I'm definetely not going to do it now.

There's a spoilered bit about cutting down here. You need to highlight it to see it (right-click the mouse and drag the cursor). This is intentional.

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What am I? Stupid?!?!?
Jesusfuckingchrist.
I cut my arm. First time I cut in weeks (I can't remember, actually, but I supposed something like that).And I had to cut my arm. I didn't think anything then. I was just… well, let's nibble a bit on the underside of the arm. Wasn't satisfied, moved up to wrist. Managed to cut four times when realized I'm going to Stockholm next week. With my parents. In the same room. For four days.
It's not like I wasn't in enough trouble with my scars.

*cry* i'm so fucking stupid. I can't take this. I hate this. Why couldn't I think of it earlier? Why? Why did I decide to cut, right now? I decided a few days back I wouldn't cut until we were back. At least I thought I decided. I didn't think of anything. I just needed to cut. It was like I wasn't even present.

The cuts aren't deep. I couldn't make them deep. The razor blades are so dull already. I need a proper knife. Thank god I don't have one, though. Perhaps they'll heal sufficiently well before next Tuesday. (Who am I trying to kid?)
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I found myself cutting. I didn't decide to do it, I didn't mean to do it. I just cut. Like I had no control over my actions. That doesn't happen often. Actually, I can't remember the last time. Usually I'm well aware of what I'm doing. Which is why I can blame myself for making ill decisions afterwards.
I feel so tired. The cuts are more like scratches.
I think the vitamin E lotion I've been using on my (very few) red scars is working. Or then they're just fading on their own. I can't tell, really. I don't usually cut deep enough to scar myself properly.

Index.