Rruffle Shuffle

It's morning.

I woke up at three forty five and then fell asleep again only to wake up at six. 

So I had no time for morning jog. 

But that's not bad. 

So yeah it's a waste of time but I brought it in myself. 

I'm reading now in the bus station about a person (I can't tell even which gender this person is, because I have no idea), who attempted suicide (it was kind of obvious since the site I've been on it's about self harm and stuff), and now this person's best friend won't talk to person. 

I kind of understand it. 

You wanted to die, the friend gave you how he feels like or how the sad feels like. 

Alone. 

I'm glad I never did it. 

I personally think that suicide was never meant for the sad ones. 

It's only for the happy people, where they are so happy, highlight of their lives, that life doesn't matter anymore, because they will die happy.  

The sad suicides are the best to make attention for awareness. 

But it's literally stupid to sacrifice yourself for something that will last a week or so. 

I know that if I would die, it will change everything. 

And I don't know if for good. 

People will become mentally ill. 

It's contagious, and don't tell me differently. 

Because it never leaves, and when you aren't it's slave anymore, it takes control on somebody else. 

That sacrifice I don't mind to do.  

....

I sit now on the table. 

I have no idea how to describe it. 

I'm leaning on the wall one leg folded, one straight. 

I don't know how to say it. 

....

I'm in the bus. 

Romy sits next to me. 

I wanted to be with 6 and 66. 

But I guess it's good enough because it's a new bus. 

It smells like soap. 

...

I made a playlist. 

73 songs total. 

It was something for the bus. 

I guess I'll finish it by the time I'll be home. 

Oh here's a son I haven't heard in a very long while, Perfect Weapon. 

I forgot how much I liked it. 

At least I can hear it now. 

Okay sorry for cutting (bad choice of words) the subject, but why people are putting pictures of themselves as background. 

You are very beautiful, but come on. 

How can you stare yourself non stop?!

My background is the natrual ones. 

On whatsapp it's the Hello you get while upgrading to iOS 7, and my phone background is the grass. 

I guess I should change it. 

Something that will match my cover. 

...

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Because I don't find it funny at all. 

Not only that now I promised myself a cut (I have to follow my commands, it's practicing self control and obeying, go figure), my snowflake cut doesn't even look like a cut. 

It looks like a weird mess of stripes. 

I assume it's because the first cut didn't let the others pass through. 

That bloody bitch. 

By the way, my failing dragonfly attempt:

It was pictured early morning. 

Around five am. 

That's how I looked like fresh. 

Haha. 

My thigh looks like an egg there. 

Cracked egg. 

...

I miss the happy feeling after cutting. 

Like you're floating. 

My favorite one was when a girl attempted suicide, with cutting her arm, and when her brain just reached euphoria, she was just like "I wonder if we have chocolate ice cream", this is so weird. 

Or the commenter that it happened for her as well, that afterwards just found herself eating a sorbet. 

I hate it. 

I don't know until when I need to be here but I didn't run today.

Which means I'm a total failure. 

I'm nervous. 

At least there's one nice girl in here. 

She hates pink too. 

My ankle hurts. 

It's weird. 

Sometimes the cut one sometimes the other. 

I've noticed something weird. 

Usually when I self harm I do only one side. 

It's time for change dear. 

Time for change. 

I also need to take better care of myself. 

I want to do a lot of things, and I won't be able to do them. 

Well now I'll try to run for at least 30 minutes. 

It's my daily minimum. 

Maximum is a myth. 

I'll have to take a shower and afterwards put all of those lotions to make a skin look good, I'll pick a place to do my nightly activity and not put on it lotion. 

I'll write what I need to buy, and will plan.

And when it's bed time I'll try my best to wake up as early as possible and will read all kind of things I shouldn't.

....

I had a shower and did few push ups.
I feel fresh.
I put all those lotions, and skin feels finally nice and calm.
Relaxed.
Though I think I'll never learn that hot water/ soap/ rough sponge/ lotions can hurt with cuts that aren't completly healed.
I want deep.
But I don't want deep.
It's like, I want to see it and be disgusted by my own fat, and to suffer, and to feel light headed and happy again.
But I don't want to see my fats, and not be able to do sports, and feel like fainting.

...

I'm slightly cold.
I want to learn tonight that cool card trick that guy from TV can do.
Or at least the simple cool ones.

I'm trrying to learn ruffle shuffle which always impressed me, so when I'll succeed I'll be able to move on.

So good night.
I hope I won't be bleeding again.
Because I just know that not so far away from today I'm going to bleed from another place, from a shitty organ that females have.
Not so yay because it's painful.
But it's nice to know you're able to have little less shitty children one day.

By the way, I think I'm going to change the ending lines, I don't know why.
I'll think of a new one.
I'll try not to dream about girl models who have balls like a male.
I watch too much house.

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