This shit is real and really crazy
Couldn’t find my blades last night. I freaked the fuck out, as if I was not freaking the fuck out already. But there is a certain part of my purse where they are and they were not there. I dumped my whole purse out in a frenzy and it took me too long for my taste to discover that my purse had a hole in it and my little bottle of blades had gotten inside the lining.
Finding them made me feel so much better. I might has well have found a hundred dollar bill. Then I cut. And I cut. And I slid it just barely over my wrist, just to visualize what it would be like. But don’t worry. I am still alive. I am not a ghost living in my computer typing out morbid blogs all day. Nope, I am alive and morbid and blogging.
Got me a damn good high off of it. I am either going to have to wear pants for a few weeks or only be around people that wont make me apologize for being who I am. Yeah, you guessed it, I will be wearing pants. The line to find acceptance is very very very long and if you don’t have a VIP card, you are still shit out of luck.
This is who I am and it doesn’t bother me so fuck you if it bothers you. My body. My choice. I do what I want with my body.