Under-The-Belt

"Are your life that hard so you have to make everyone miserable?!" my mum yelled.
"Don't every speak to me again!" I torn my lungs, screaming, and then, slamming the floor with heavy strong feet, going forward to my room.

Well, I will never consider that my toe touched my sister's fork as cruelty that leads others to misery.
And for the record, my mum done under-the-belt attacking.
Well, my life are that hard but I won't ever make other feel pain.
I swear that slits on my neck are not painful as her word.
It's cruelty.
Her words burning.
My life are awful.
If I'll ever have a biography, people will consider it as a tragedy.
And why the fuck would she use this beginning?!
I'm so upset, I can't even enjoy my favorite songs, not talking about to laugh from the simple, shallow, humor from Robot & Monster.

Now, even in my "Calm Saturday" I get upset.

I loved the last hours, crafting.
Made a hobo bag from new tank I've got from major bitch to my birthday.
Crafted some pouch/pencil-case with pikachu design (ears and face).
And drew on my ugly wallet.
I have pink (I hate pink) wallet that only one side is black (from my nail polish, because it was too pink for me) and on the pink side I drew by the Internet, the Space Invaders main alien.


I don't even mind that my songs (with all the screaming, and other creepy elements) are playing in the living room, loud enough so the whole room can hear.
My life already fucked, what's the problem to fuck a little more?

Well, empty days passes slow until somebody screaming.
And here I am, passing the time left here.
Knowing that my opportunity for getting my desired apologize, fading away.
And I want her humiliation.
What's wrong with it?
I deserve to get a revenge.


It's annoying that everyday I think about cutting myself again, over and over.
My minimum is to think about it 3 times a day.
Everyday.

Hopeless.
Fucking tired from breathing.
Happy? Barely.
Sad? Nope.
Suicidal? Results may vary by seconds.

I want some virtual world to play in.
Meet another strange people, avoiding perverts.
But since it's impossible (unless I'll invent it myself) I have to do all the hard work.

Well, since empty days making empty posts.
Bye, berries.

Berries, survivors,
I hope you'll make it.