Thoughts arrive like butterflies
2002-06-16 21:32:50 (UTC)


Sometimes, dreams can be more realistic than life.
Lastnight I had a dream that scared the hell out of me. It
wasn't scary, but it made me think. I was in hospital
andpolice and my family were arund me, saying that I had
tried to kill myself. I had bloody wrists and I KNEW I
hadn't slit them, but noone would believe me.
It made me realise that if it did happen, no one would
believe me. No one ever does. I'm always the lier, or the
joker, or the person most likely to kill herself.
But...when I do cut myself, it's not for the attention, not
at all. That's probably the worst thing I could imagine, at
the moment. It's for the rush, the thrill. Nothing
interests me, much anymore. No one is interesting. The only
things I like to do are read, listen to music. And cut.
At least it's something I know is real-the pain. I've been
cutting for 5-7 years, and self harming as long as I can
remember, and no one has noticed, and there's not much
chance now, thankfully. One thing which pisses me off is
the people who're "into" Korn and Slipknot. Running blades
through their flesh, so it just scratches them, and
claiming they have serious problems. I know I don't know
what goes on behind closed doors, but it's quite obvious,
that for them it's just a cry for attention.

Humm., that strayed from the point of my dream, but one reads this, no one will need to
understand what I mean.