28.9.2000

Good day, morning sun. A good day. A smiling bus-driver. Packed bus, remember to avoid nine o'clock buses the next time. Sit next to someone you don't know. Carve lines into your arms. For no reason. Cry salty tears and feel nothing. Separate them from yourself. Don't feel. Don't breathe. Don't talk, don't have space. Don't have materia.

Disappear.

Beautiful sunny morning. Sticky keyboards again.

Relief, I can let go of you now. Take care of yourself, I know you can do that. They'll stand up for you, no reason to worry.

Relief. A bit of pain. A bit of loneliness. I do believe I want to go now. Now that you're safe.

There's nothing for me here anymore. No one. Not even myself.

Now you won't have another chance to hurt me. I'm tired of these tears.