Book of Suicide
2004-01-26 14:42:06 (UTC)

J 1/24/04

9:24 am

i cut this weekend. i haven't cut with a triple blade
razor in a long time. it felt good though, refreshing. i
was listening to my usual sad music (staind). the one song
on their second album (break the cycle) that i consider
my 'theme song' is "epiphany." the one line that i relate
the most to is: "'cause i can't take anymore of this / i
wanna come apart / and dig myself a little hole / inside
your precious heart." everytime that verse plays, i cry
the most. i usually think of my dad. he's gotten better
about things, but i still feel distant. i think of my mom
more so now. i know she loves me, but she's kind of cold
in the way she shows it. i can't blame her for her faults,
because who am i to scoff when my flaws are just as vast
and intricate? one of the few things that make me happy
when i'm sad are my ferrets. my wonderful little bear
licks away my tears and will tolerate me holding him for a
few moments longer than usual, then persist for me to let
him down. then he'll drag himself backwards with his head
flailing about, mouth wide open panting, hoping i'll play
with him. i chase him down some stairs, stop, he'll turn
and do his play stance, i resume chasing him for a few more
steps, he runs, i stop, he stops, and the cycle continues.
after chasing him, i subject him to more kisses and love.
it's not all that bad being a ferret; sleeping 18 hrs a
day, then playing for the other 6, being spoiled because
you know you're cute, loving life and its simplicity. i
guess their joy rubs off onto me a bit. bear's pawing at
my leg wanting a raisin, i'll write more later.