27.4.2000

"This week you could start a new hobby as an advocate of justice. The first thing to do is to knit yourself a cape and a pair of thights -maybe even some really cool cap. That's the way most of you get started." says my horoscope.
I think I'll pass.

I used to have an close relationship with deja at one point of my life.
I hadn't been there for ages but I had to check something today. It's unbelievable. I felt all homely.

My sister called me a 'poor thing'. It's quite interesting, imho.
I decided to not keep my cellphone open. I'm also not going to message anything to A. for a few days. I'll open my cell phone if and when I'll need it at some point. Till that day, i'll pretend I never got her message. I'm a bitch, yes.

I don't usually bitch about other people's poems etc. But I can't help it with this one.

Hell On Earth
(Thank Eq. for the link. Do it now.)

Is she cheesy or what? Even I could probably write more moving poetry.
Or then not. I know I shouldn't bitch at others. It's just 'razor in her hand' ? Jesus. Does that girl seriously think she's succeed in killing herself that way? Because somehow I doubt that. She'd probably cut sideways, even.
(Sorry about this. I'm not mocking her pain but her skills in writing poetry.)

This is interesting though, because i've been thinking of cutting for days now. Someone suggested needles somewhere because apparently they don't hurt, they bleed as much as cuts (that would depend on the cut, methinks) and the best thing, it doesn't leave scars. Which is wrong. I have needle holes in my arms after all kinds of blood tests that have been taken. But I don't have proper veins in my arms anyway so they always have to basically cut it open to get any blood out of me. Which is a bit amusing, really, considering that I'm perfectly capable of draining my own blood if needed. It's just those needles… they don't work very well with me. I'm tempted to give it a try though.

What I didn't think, of course, that associating with suicidal people ends often in losing them. I always forget people die. Dammit. Dammitdammitdammit.
I haven't read a.s.h. for ages again. Last time I was there, some people I had grown fond of were on their way out. I can't handle it sometimes. I started reading ash two and a half years ago. There's been so many people who have killed themselves after that. I mean, I never talked to them. And I never would even think that what they did was wrong. But it can still hurt. And it can hurt a lot. I can't take it sometimes. Right now I don't want to. So I keep away from there. I just forget that this life is unbearable for so many people.
This kind of hurt doesn't make me want to die anymore, for some reason. I used to feel like killing myself because I was so angry and disgusted at the world for the pain (along withother reasons, of course). Now I'm just… hurting.
And in some way it even gives me satisfaction. I need to hurt to feel alive. It's the same thing with self-injury, I think. B used to say that inflicting pain to feel alive was bullshit but I disagree(d) with him on this one. Pain can be good, in some ways, and sometimes it's even necessary. Because I can't stand the emptiness. I just can't handle it.
I don't know. It's not that I necessarily want to hurt, or anything, but if I don't hurt, what on earth am I supposed to feel then? There's no other option, either pain or emptiness. And neither one of those is such a good option. I don't want either one. Right now… I don't know what I want.

Index.