i don't feel sad, just alone. It's cold but hot in here at the same time. It's pathetic really, my tears are wetter than I am. Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to die. I don't know why I'm crying. It might just be allergies, but I don't feel sick. There's blood everywhere. The scissors are stained. Why did I do this? I wanted to stay clean. I couldn't take it. Now I have to disinfect this before it gets infected. This is why everyone hates me, it's because I'm nothing but a pathetic sad sack of shit. I don't get it, how could I ever be loved when all I do is fake everything about myself until I break. I can't even feel. I can't remember anything. My head hurts. I just want to be held again, to be hugged, but I guess that's too much to ask for. I'm done being a people pleaser. But even if I try, I can't stop. It's an addiction. I like putting myself down for other people. I don't know why. It's so fucking addicting.
