i am trying to write, to find my words which have somehow evaoprated, dried up... like my life. searching for truths that dont exist, the world is broken and all i can do is sit and watch it fall apart... i feel the ghosts of fingertips lingering upon my skin... i wish to peel it off and bury the dirt a million miles away. running into the arms of the blackest corners of night, searching for moonlight magic lost long ago. i need something that has no name, and that which cannot be named cannot be obtained- right? so where does that leave me? sitting at my computer with a brand new package of razors in my hand my own blood staining my fingertips? i am afraid. i feel death waiting for me, like bones rattling in my darkness.

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.

~Final Destination

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11/28/00
Dear Self,

I've got about ten minutes before I've got to leave for school...

Last night was awful and this mornings not any better. Choking on myself, everything is falling apart faster than i can pick up the pieces and I'm left dancing this crazy dance in an attempt to prove i CAN pick up the pieces, but the more i pick up the more i drop the more i step on the more i crush... so don't i lose either way? i am so full of tears i cant cry, and when i do manage to cry it opens the floodgates and i drown in the rush because there is too much to be contained...

I just got done last night talking about how i didnt want anymore scars, and this morning finds me examining my wrist to find a spot where i can make a clean (deep) cut. i normally cut my left wrist only, because im right handed, but i think if i concentrated i could grip the blade well enough to do the right wrist. but that means more scars. concentration means deep, and i dont know how to just cut 'lightly' anymore, the cuts lately have been scarring deeply... at leat there arent that many of them. i finger them often. scars that will be there forever that won't ever go away. on my wrist. maybe if i cut my thigh. but i don't get the same satisfaction from that. i know this game. i've played it before, and i lost. do i really want to play again? what does it mean to lose? do i die? do i live? do i win? i don't know. confused. tired. i just want to sleep but school calls... i hate school.

now i lay me down to sleep...

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