one more exam left, the big scary 3 hour indonesian one, for which i have done not one ounce of study. art wasn't too bad, it wasn't great, no where near 'deep enough' but i'm pretty sure i passed. i wonder though, when did i become this girl? who cries and slices in an attempt to be free from her own thought, her own body, her emotions. when did i decide i wanted blades and scars, the physical and mental harm? it's clear now, that cutting isn't going to take me to the same place that it used to, so why do i persist? is it this stupid human quest for a fucking nirvana? is peace of mind to much to ask for? last night, even as i cut i knew it wouldn't help, just another scar, on top of another, adding to the mental har, why the fuck? i don't understand, and if i don't understand, there's no fixing it. there though, is one known, hard to come by fix to the physical pain, your touch baby.it can calm the physical fury that rages inside. the mental cure? well i haven't found one yet.

For the past three or four weeks barely a day has gone by when I haven’t cried, wanted to kill myself or had that fog hanging over me and a that sinking feeling in my stomach. an appointment with the doc is well overdue but I can’t bring myself to make that call. I hate the humiliation of leaving his office with a tear stained face. But I am just so fucking sad. I want it too stop, but I’m not too sure how to make it go away. For nearly every minute of every day I want to cut, my arms ache from old scars and feel the need to bleed. I feel phantom blades tracing across my wrists. The old scars on my side, my stomach and my legs, they become worry stones. I rub them and feel comfort. I want to cut, and when I do to cut deep but I lost that ability long ago. I miss those cuts that bleed and bleed. The calmness, the exhaustion that follows cutting. I shouldn’t idolise it, but god, it’s good. Today though, has been good, I’ve smiled and laughed and wasted the day. most importantly though, I haven’t wanted to cut, I don’t feel that sinking feel. Please let today finish on a good note

after craving cutting for so long, after feeling the ghost of it on my skin almost every hour of every day, i cut. eh, i'm still therem kind of, still in bat country, and not really a way out, bub, i miss you, i can still kindof smell you on my fingers, even though i washed my hands, and wearing your perfume makes me feel closer to you, i still haven't started my homework, i'm catching up on looking at a few blogs i've missed, and plus, i went to do a listening thing, but it wasn't there anyway. you m'dear, i have no words, i miss you, i wish we were back in bed, spending a whole night with you. knowing that it's possible to do that, mm hjdfsfdhfdjksdjkfdjjdfsj (:

I wonder love, do you still check up on this? Even though I haven’t written for so long. I keep on meaning to, and I do, I write small snippets of, just stuff, really but when I actually have access to interwebs to post it, I never feel the same way and I don’t want to worry you. I miss you jay, I’m lying here in bed wearing your top, I hope you’re enjoying my necklace. I’m not really in the mood to talk, but I’ll leave it to chance, whether you read this or not, we’ll see. I’m guessing, once you call I’ll enjoy talking to you. So, sup? Well, not much, nothing at all lately, I am tired and uninspired, unenthusiastic and lethargic. For the past week, no longer, I don’t know how long, i just can’t be bothered, i have small bursts of energy where I can do some stuff, but outside of that, it’s almost painful to try. This is so very not good, especially because I have exams next week, and two assignments to finish by next Monday, not to mention the eternal bitch that is stage 2 art. And I kind of just waste all this time. I know that I should go back to ross, but I don’t want to make the call. I haven’t cut for ages, last night though was so tempting, mum was in fine form, espousing her shit to anyone and everyone whether they wanted to hear it or not, instead, I stuck my headphones in my ears and drowned it out. Because of this shit feeling, I’m putting on more weight, which is more weight I’ll have to lose later on. I’ve stupidly promised my brother that I’ll run with him in the city to bay, it’s in September or October I think, but judging by how I feel at the minute I won’t make the effort to train. I wonder….. and now I’ve forgotten I lost my job too, well not really lost, but the kids I babysit for are moving interstate and yeah, I have to stay here. I’m so sad, I’ve known these kids almost their whole lives, and the youngest one, only two weeks ago he learned to say my name. so now, I’m left without a way to make money, that and I’m left without a place to escape. It’s going to be horrible, mum’s taken two weeks off for my exams. Two weeks with just me and her together all day, one of us isn’t going to make it through, and judging by her success rate in fucking up the people around her, it’ll be me, I mean she’s already half way there. I’d really like to slit my wrists right now, to have the comfort of cutting and the diagnosis of a suicide attempt to get me out of everything. Shallow huh? Haha, on a lighter note, I just found this, i’m so silly, and hopelessly involved in my daydreams, and too much of a romantic but here, this was from a few days ago: I was trying, and struggling terribly to fill out the form for our grad book. One of the questions is “where do you see yourself in ten years time?” to that, there is only one answer. 2020, living in America, just back from Iceland, where Jay and I finally were married, after a ten year promise. She’s playing tennis professionally, or she’s a photographer, working with the likes of Tegan and Sara, Lily Loveless and Ellen Page. And me? Who knows, maybe I’ll own a café-book-shop-thing with a couple of friends, or I might still be waiting tables or a check out chick, I might have gone to uni, and gone on to do important stuff. We might even have our first kid by then. We’ll live in an apartment, somewhere gay-friendly in America. It’d be cool if it was a penthouse, but a small cramped thing would be fine too. It would have to be near a park, not too far from cafes and a cinema. In our home we can have a room dedicated entirely to reading, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, a collection of mismatched arm chairs and really thick comfy carpet for lying on. We could spend weekends in bed, or out, seeing bands etc etc. We’ll watch movies together too in our spare time, though who knows how much time you’ll have, and I guess, I’ll follow you around the world, because, baby, all I want is you, and all I need to be happy is to be with you. We can own both a cat, and a dog, and I’d like some fish too. We’ll be far away from family, but it’s good like that, and you know, coz you’re so good at tennis and all, when the Australian Open is on we’ll come and little old Adelaide. .