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I hurt myself today to see if I still could. To see if it would still make the pain go away. To see if it would give my life back meaning. I need it, it is part of me. A part of me that no one will ever take away. It is the only thing which is really me. I know not what I am but what I do has become me. No longer an response it is the reason onto itself. It doesn't need any background. It is and that is all it needs to be.
I hurt myself today but it didn't hurt. I saw the red lines slowly appear and rejoiced as I had claimed back a part of me that people said I had to loathe. No one will constrain me, no one will define me or force me to be other than I am. I cut. I rejoice.
I watch the blood form. So neat, so tidy. I want to be that way. i want the answers to be there. I can't deal with reality. I hate the fact that people prefer me one way to another. Like somehow the way they don't like is less valid. I hate the assumption that because they think it is nicer when I am that way that I will prefer life that way. why can't I be a bag of contradictions? why can't I know who I am? Why do I have so much difficulty dealing with the public and the private personnas that make me me. Or am I just someone else like everyone seems to think?
It feels so cold now. There was never any real pain. The pain comes when the blood goes away. Then I have to contend with peoples broken expectations. Once again I have failed to live up to their expectations. they will check and they will be unable to hide their horror and disgust and feelings of rejection at my actions. Why can't they see that if I stop I must stop for me. I can not stop because they will be upset if I don't. I owe them no debt. Just because they do not like some part of me is no reason why I must redefine myself to fit in with their parameters. But then why oh why do I feel like I must?
I am me. I am failure. I am regret. But I want to be me. In spite of all that.
I read too much, I self analyse too much. But by whose rules? who said so much was too much? Why must I always be so wrong?
They never say but I can see it in their eyes - If you continue to do this we can not continue.
Why must it always be a choice? Is it a choice? have I made the wrong decision?
Is it the same as the choice between letting the blood congeal or wiping it away?
world domination
