[29-06-12]

Things are always easier when you have somebody to blame.

Because although thing fucks itself up, it won't sort itself out.

And people are tired of your rambling on and on about how tired you are.

They want a nice girl. Definitely not you.

So nobody is there to blame ? Or maybe there is one.

You.

Me.

Yes.

It's all my faul that things around me fucked up. It must be my fault. Whose else can it be ?


I'm a bad girl, bad attitude, lazy, doesn't work hard enough. If only I work hard enough.


I can never make my parents proud. I'm just a burden on their shoulder.


I'm happy I'm alive. But it seems that I don't deserve any of it.

No I don't. Really.


When I was 13. I started hurting myself. Math class. Compass.


Daddy found out. I lied about it.


But I realized daddy care. So I kind of stop.


I forgot to tell Mum she received an important message one day, few months after perhaps. 


Mum was angry with me. Uncle was angry with me. I was angry with myself. Compass.


I start wearing bracelets to hide the small short red lines. 


Didn't bleed or anything. But leave mark and bit of scar. 


Then one day I accidently cut myself from falling of the chair and hit my hand on the sharp side of the table.

Compass to make it bigger.

Then I got mad at myself for failing Chemistry, probably a year later. Compass. Ankle.

Somehow I got a friend involve. She cut. Deeper. More regularly. Greater pain.

Nevermind.

Then it faded away.


Then I was in high school.


Compass again.


Didn't hurt much. Wear bracelets reagularly nonetheless.


Then I go study abroad.


After the first month clean, I started cutting.


Knife ? Paper knife. Proper blade.


Longer cut.


It's always cold here. I can wear long-sleeved all the time. No one cares.


Daddy is not here. There's no worries.


I don't have to hide.


Bracelets. More bracelets.


Cut. Longer. Deeper. Not enough to even need antiseptic cream. But well.


I'm such a whim. Never cut deep enough ?


Never need medical attention ?


I'm a light case. Chill out guys. And I'm confident I can stop myself.


Christmas. Worst cutting ever (And not even need any care. Light case)


Then clean for two months. How amazing.


I only cut once or twice a month anyway. Cuts need about 2 months to dissapear completely.


I refuse to wash dishes when people are around. 


I kind of want you to recgonize. No you didn't.


I'm frighten to death because you're professional educator.


I'm scared because you judged a friend of you who cut 20 years ago.


So well. Long-sleeved. Bracelets.


It seems like you misunderstood me. I don't enjoy wearing bracelets nor I have any passion with them.


I started wearing bracelets because I need to hide my cuts. Idiots.


Why do you keep giving me bracelets as presents ? You want me to cut more ?


And then I relapse.

And then I relapse again.

And then I stop.

It has been 4 months or more. I stopped. I survive on the thought that I'm going home.

Daddy cares. Mummy cares. Brother probably cares too.

And when I'm back here in September. I'll cut for the 6 months I have suffered.

And things fucked up anyway. It will just get more and more hellish over time.

Why do I have to care about where to live ? Because nobody else care you fuckhead whimsy bitch.

Why did I come here in the first place ? Wrong decision, my dear. Deadly wrong.

Tiger's back. Can't get down.


It sometimes hurt like hell. 


Cry much more often.


And that's it. ?