Dear diary,
Today I was paired with Rye for a biology project.
But I kinda embarrassed myself when I spat on the paper when I was trying to talk to him. I didn't mean to, it just flew onto the paper.
& he saw it.
ew he saw me.
being disgusting.
im disgusting .
no wonder he doesnt like me.
why do i even bother.
i should just-
I stopped writing when my pencil snapped. I picked up my pencil sharpener from the table.
A while back, around 2 years ago, my old therapist suggested that I write my thoughts in a journal or a diary instead of physically expressing them.
She thought it would help resolve my habits.
It didn't though.
It didnt help me at all.
I just let her think it did.
I let my parents think it did.
But it didn't, and I couldn't go back to that place.
Every now and then I would get temptations by the objects around me.
They would literally call to me. It made me feel insane.
Maybe I was insane.
I focused back on sharpening my pencil. I twisted the two objects in opposite directions. Suddenly, I saw a flash inside the sharpener.
I thought I'd shot a spark, so I opened the sharpener to see if there were any burnt shavings. There wasn't.
I looked into the other half. When I turned it at a certain angle, the light reflected on the blade.
Leave me alone.
I stared at it.
It stared at me.
I feel frustrated and angry.
And sad.
And embarrassed.
And tempted.
The temptation was overtaking me.
I couldn't resist.
;
