i'm such a procrastinator. i have to rewrite 6-8 (or is it 8-10?) poems by thursday and write a letter on the writing process. i've redone exactly one and i should be studying for my other classes. i'm redoing the 'susan went home' one for sure. i usually don't like my endings but i love the one for that.

instead, susan went
home.
the sun was very
bright in the sky,
she looked up at it
and afterwards she
saw spots.

not my best but, eh, just something about it. the other poems aren't that great but i'll manage. i'm not sure how to rewrite the one about the overdose. my workshop really loved that one. take out a few lines and clarify should do it. some people thought it was about alcohol poisoning. well, except for the person who'd overdosed before.

today hasn't been great. i really fucked up today. i scratched my arm and cut my breasts. i was so angry i couldn't breathe. i just hate myself. i am an awful person and i told my mother some very nasty things about my sister. why am i such a bitch?

i wish there was something more. i'm feeling like there's this strange void and unless i keep moving, keep working on something and keep not letting myself think i'll just fall apart. this has been a bad few days. there's no apparent reason for anything going wrong. i'm just falling apart and it isn't fucking romantic. it's not as beautiful as some people would like you to think. 

part of me still hasn't accepted that i'll always be ill and that it's not something i'll recover from. i learn to live with it but i won't learn to live without it. most of the time i'm all right but then, i don't know, something wrong goes off in my head and i turn into a mess. i get into loud fights where i hear people say horrible things about me and i just twist every single word into something negative.

i bought some new blades. i went to the store and put two of them in my shoes (damn stupid because i didn't put them in a case) because i was half expecting to be sent back to the hospital. i cut myself getting them out of my shoes and i bled on my posterboard for school. i haven't done anything since then but, oh god, do i want to.

i always picture that time where i was red from the breasts down in blood. just pure red. i want that for me. more than that, i want to slip back into the relative peace of the past few months. i want to worry about little more than school and getting disability. i don't want this. i don't fucking want this.