i wanted this out of my life, so its going up here. 6th October, btw I want out. Out of this life This emotion This school This family This responsibility This body. Fuck it all. I don’t need it. I want oblivion. I want to be back on that hill. Staring at the stars. So small, I’m of no consequence. That is my oblivion. And my tiger arms. I want them. I miss the feeling of cutting, cutting, cutting, 50, 60, 70 cuts a night, all at once. The ache the next day. That they burn when the weather gets cold. I can feel them, phantom cuts. I need my tiger stripes. With them, I’ll be beautiful. With them, I’d be able to cope. I’d be invincible. And dear Mr Delivery Guy. Could I please order a boyfriend to go? Who’ll listen on the phone while I cry. Who’ll hold me till I fall asleep. Who’ll come on adventures when the need arises. Who won’t mind if I kiss other people just because. Who’ll buy me pretty things from antique shops. Who will talk to me, and make me laugh, and hold my hand, and paint my room. Who doesn’t mind the brokenness. We could go on dates to Ikea, lie on my hill at night, do it at the skatepark, borrow old movies and watch them all in a row. Do you have one? Those guys, who make the world seem a brighter place when you’re with them? Or can I put my name down? I’ll pay layby. When one comes in, please let me know. I’ll be waiting.

sleepy. i actually feel ok. i walked for three and a half hours today, didnt eat any hot chips. FINALLY got all the questions right on the give way thingo for ma Ls test. my pretty new nailpolish matches my pretty vintage skirt. theyr blue, incedently the same blue of the dead pengiun that me and gus buried yesterday. there were lots of dead birds on the beach. im a little sad though, i havent seen anyone these holidays, and now theyr half way over, and its time to do homework and i cnant go to julia farr, and i cant go on picnics or help set josh n dot up. im just going to be back at victor. its nice there, but its boring and i miss people, and mum meddles in everything. ah. i saw danny today, he was with some other girl. i think he saw me, but we pretended we didnt see each other. its ok. but i miss him. im alot more devastated bout this break up than i should be. oh well. cest la vie.

ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH! I am not three years old. I am not five years old. Im not even ten years old. I am sixteen and a fucking half. I am old enough to make descisions for myself. I can act on my own. I don’t need her over my shoulder constantly. I don’t want her there. She buts her fucking nose into everyone’s business. Fuck her. She can try and make gus straight, its not her place to put in her two fucking cents in EVERYFUCKINGWHERE. So I was fooling around with gus. So we were spooning when she walked in. I DON’T CARE. She believes in no sex before marriage. Does that include screwing around? She once told me that letting guys touch me means im easy, that they’ll think ill just fuck for nothing blah blah blah blah. She never experimented? She never got horny? She never let herself just go? I bet she aint fucking mother teresa, though knowing her, she is. I have my own life. Yeah, so I hook up with alotta people, I fool around, im not a virgin. But I’m safe. I don’t put myself in situations that are gonna end up badly. Contrary to her belief, I can do stuff myself, even if I wont catch a bus. Fuck. She started on me about that. ‘maybe she can catch the bus down? Whos she gonna be meeting with? Oh, your not gonna kiss anyone are you?” I am my own person, she needs to fucking learn that. I don’t know if I can stay living at home for another year. she still treats me like a kid. They need to chill abit. Let me do things for myself. Right now, I wanna be back in gus’ bed. I wanna fuck. I want to be my own person. I want her to let me have some control over my life. She wants me to visit nannie. I don’t, not coz I don’t wanna see her, but for the entirely selfish reason that its gonna make me feel like crap, and that’s been happening a bit too much lately, I don’t think I have enough control overmyself to do that. But I cant tell her that. We just can’t fucking talk.

2nd&&3rd October This morning my grandmother got readmitted to hospital. The last time this happened I was six years old. I remember going to visit her, we sat in a garden, with pretty flowers around and a bird bath. She was wearing a pink nightie, we ate arnotts assorted creams while sitting on a picnic bench. She looked so sick, we only talked about the banal and her medication, just before we left she showed us the tv room where they’d all sit, mindlessly staring at the tv screen, each lost in their own stupid anxiety and depression. This morning I got stuck at my grandmothers house while she was getting ready for hospital. She looked so sick. Mum had to force her to move, always coaxing her, then acting the devil. The effort it took to get her to go to the toilet, then into the shower. I had to pack her bags. You could feel the sickness in the house. Watching mum and nannie fight each other and that bigger demon, that mental illness their faces, broken, tear-stained are stuck in my head. This shouldn’t affect me so much. I know shes sick, iv always known, the myriad of pills she swallows on a daily basis, the shakes from EST, the stupid irrational questions she’s always asking. I guess im so scared because all the pills, the shock therapy, the councilling in the world can all come undone so quickly. Its back to hospital. Her whole life’s been like this. My mother has spent her life dealing with it, looking after her when it becomes to much for Pa. I feel guilty that mum is also looking after me and dad, dealing with our demons as well as nannies. And hers too. Im scared I’ll end up like nannie. Mum’s got sick. She just cries and goes to bed. Shes not so angry any more. Just sad. Its horrible. Yesterday, or maybe a couple of days ago we had the debt collectors on to us, wanting to get our power cut off again. A dog attack, our dog to blame. And iv been not so great. I hate myself so completely. I hate how I act, as im doing it, as soon as I start doing something my mind is abusing me, guilt, anger disgust are all running around up there, never letting me alone. Plus the weight thing, the way I look, it quite disgusting. People think im pretty, but they don’t see me the way I do. I cant accept what they say, because I cant believe it. I can’t even bring myself to think that im even ok. Its just a massive ball of hate. I cut again. Its been over three months. It hurt so much. It was so fucking hard. I’m out of practice. Now there’s scratches all on my stomach. Finally I broke the skin. It took awhile, but finally the adrenaline kicked in, calmed me down. I could breathe again. It’s a good thing that I work, I suppose. Raffy, Phia and Dee. They are whats stopping me from shredding my wrists, from ripping out my veins, from making them tiger striped like my legs. I can’t stand the thought that they’d know that im like this. That im actually a horrible, ugly, broken person. Sometimes I get so scared, because I realise how much our lives revolve around self destruction. We plan it meticulously and we live it out. the drinking, the cutting, the burning, the starving then bingeing, the heart break, the random fucks. Why are we so intent on being wrecked?

fml. i went to have a drink, and i missed my mouth completley, and poured it straight down my cleavage. i am completley sober (Y) (: sometimes we just have to laugh why am i so tired? i slept, i think. 8/9 hours a night. arghhaghrhrhrgrhhrhr. fuck. maybe its time to go and do some yoga? in the sunshine. i hate waiting for emails you know aren't gonna come. i think, i might make this private. i dont mind people i dont know reading it, coz chances are ill never meet you. but j read it the other day. for some reason i feel violated. i feel like i have to censor what i write. anyway. speaking of j. he had a bit of a go at me last night. went alone the lines of 'i know you dont like me, but dont ignore me" oooppss. and then he went on to tell me he only wanted sex after sayng he thought WE were all good. mmm. there was never a WE. i think thats the problem. but iv never seen him angry. i dont like it. i was lying there. making myself stay so so still, so i wouldnt get up and get a blade. it worked. aand i kinda realised, that if i had cut nothing would have changed. wow. profond. i think thats what they call a breakthrough (: work later. i get lots of $$$$ which is always nice. have to remind myself to put it in the bank. i cant get p outta my head. i dont really know him at all. iv been at school with him for 6 years. and i have two memories of him: one: erin liked him in yr 6. whenn he was the pirate king. mm, i may have had a crush then too >.< two: one day luke fucked me over real bad, and he just held me while i cried. i wonder, how many hours of my life has been spent crying in guys arms? i REALLY dont wanna know. we'll see what friday brings i guess.

^ and im addcited to this song trouble by nevershoutnever. dat boi is hottttt i want to play that song to e. to let her know how much i love her. my heads a lil everyywhere at the moment. i want to be back at victor. everythings just nicer and sleepier down there. i saw danny yesterday, well the back of hi head. couldnt quite bring myself to actually seee him. was gonna meett up with p. but then i left. hopefully ill see him onfriday. but it maybe awkward, there probs wont be any vodka. he tasted like bubllegum and smoke. best fuckign taste EVER. somehow, i have to tell j i cant do anything anymore. its just not right. the whole, eilidh thing, plus you know when your with people and he whole time your brain is screaming NO! but your bodys going yes? i cant do it anymore. for me, it was just another hookup. but i know he kinda likes me, and that just wont do. looking forward to next week, hopefully see sallyyy. which means beer, and lots of beer. (Y) mm. slightly wierded out i keep on geeting strange/nice/sexual compliments from people id nevr expect, like, gould turned down sex to talk to me (this is a phenomenemn if ya know him) then i was talking to jaydan tonight n he was saying something about how im one of the few girls in the school he'd do, therefore, he'd like to lose his virginity to me. plus lian wrote that song. so maybe people don't hate me? maybe it just hate myself so much i cant see people like me? though, i hate myself so fucking much. i cant look at myself, im covered in stretchmarks and scars and cellulite. its terrrrible. my minds in a complete mess too plus. the whole not eating much/excersing thing. it just makes me tired. and im not feeling any skinnier at all. i know i havnt lost weight. but. i can go to a party, hook up with however many guys, get drunk etc etc, make a fool of myself, and not regret it fuck all this shit

when I saw her today my mother was crying. there’s something wrong. my mother doesn’t cry. she is the heartless bitch that assumes that I sleep with every guy I lay my eyes on. she is so strong, in her glare, her opinions. WHY DID SHE CRY? I feel guilty. while my mother was crying I was pressed into the wall against the church. hooking up with j. my lips are raw now and my mother’s eyes are rimmed red. its getting to the stage where I cant look myself in the mirror anymore. I hate what I see so much. its easy to starve yourself, for a few days. its harder to keep it up. its hard because our bodies make us eat without knowing. cookies offered here, just that one piece of bread there. im not determined enough. plus I don’t excersise. why am I expecting myself to be thin? so. its all shitty now. I was happy yesterday, wasn’t i? lying in bed, forsaking homework for watching fight club. its time to start cutting again. maybe. but I cant remember if that actually made me happy. did it? burning works too. fuck it works. even a match, just put out. against my wrists. pain. sharp clean pain. right now I have to write 1200 words on the role of women in Sparta. right now I want to sleep it all away right now i just cant be bothered.

three posts in a day. oh dear. i should be sleeping, but im mindlessly googling, swapping between three blogs: http://teenagemisanthropy.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-07-02T12%3A03%3A00%2B01%3A00&max-results=7

It’s a dream I’ve had a million times before so I know it’s a dream. This tower is familiar, I visit it every night and I know what’s going to happen. The tight rope’s way too thin. My feet slip, I start to fall, fall. In a futile attempt to stop I reach out and grab at the blue and white china that adorns the walls around me. But I keep on falling, falling now with shards of blue to keep me company. I’ve been falling forever, I swear. Then black. I’m awake, as usual. I roll over and push my head back into my pillow, moaning “sleep”. It’s dark and dreary, the rain outside is seeping through the cracks; the TV’s flickering in the background. Groggily, shakily I stand up. Bottles crunch under my feet, stumbling to the bathroom. There’s a pine tree growing out of the bath, up through the roof. A line of dolls are propped up against the windows. Staring, staring. WHERE AM I? “Jenny, Jenny, Jennnn-eeeeeee. Where are you? I want to see you, please? I promise I’ll be nice.” WHO IS THAT? And who’s Jenny? And WHERE AM I? I’m starting to get a little scared; it’s so dark outside, and cold and rainy. I think I’m alone here, except for the screaming man. Where did Tommy go? WHERE AM I? So, I walk out of the house, down the road, on my way. To somewhere. The rain is cold. Dark trees line the streets; a single streetlight shines in the distance. I can just about make out the skater up ahead. He’s coming closer. “Hi” I mutter as he comes to a stop in front of me. “Hey Jenny.” “Who’s Jenny?” “Don’t you know? YOUR’E Jenny.” “No, no, NO. I’m not. I’m me.” “And who exactly is that?” “Me. I’m ME! Girl, sixteen. Going Somewhere” “Are you sure? Jenny? Where are you going?” “I don’t know, I’m not sure. Somewhere! Ok? Who are YOU? Just go away, leave me alone!” “Can’t you see, it’s me, I’m you, Jenny. And you’re not going anywhere” “You’re not me, you can’t be. I’m me, and I’m not Jenny! Prove it, show me!” The skater takes off their hood. It isn’t a he, it’s me, or I think it is. She looks like me. Same hair, same eyes, even the same freckle near my mouth. But there’s something a little wrong with this picture. What, I couldn’t say. And who is Jenny anyway? She sure as hell isn’t me. This is scary. This isn’t real. Is it? Please, no, it can’t be. I turn around and start running, back to that house, with the pine tree in the bathroom. The broken bottles next to my bed. Behind me, I hear the sound of wheels. And the road is falling beneath me. Falling, falling. She’s coming. I can hear her. The sound of wheels, the ragged breathing. Then black. I’m awake. Again.

today, i kissed ten guys. no, i'm not a slut am i? today, it rained, and it poured. it was dark when school finished. the morning was sunny and warm. dots was nice. i managed to take the most beautiful photo of her. then we lay in bed all night watching skins. flirting with joshie boi. danny rang, which was wierd, id kind of forgotten my own boyfriend.oops. we had waffles for breakfast. and we sunbaked.it was warm then. only notsogreat thing is ellie was in hospital. stupid epilepsy. four days till holiays. and theyr starting with a party. im excited. all good with my art final too. she likes my idea (Y). just need to find an old tv. hardrubbishingtime :) the only problem in the whole world is i dont own a tshirt, oh. and that i can't stand who i am. but who gives a fuck? its raining :)