Today I saw a tourist with a PTV bracelet.
....
I didn't found my iPhone while watching a video, so I ran quickly to the counter area, where the phone is usually is, I gasped (I never gasp, so it's really exciting!) and ran quickly back to my laptop, only to find it, where I started laughing because I just used it.
Today, I was in Jerusalem.
May I remind you that I'm allergic to nature?
I get all whiny, and sometimes hyper, and I just read weird stuff.
Starting from the probably strangest but lovely stuff that you can possibly find in a strange fetish adoring sex community, but nope, it'd be on MPA, go figure.
But it was on self harm side, and what the hell? It was a girl that asked other members if they ever experienced with your partner and you to cut each other and alike.
I find it amazing, how can you possibly trust somebody so much to do it, and the chances that you'd meet one is so rare.
It's stunning.
I'm seriously mesmerized, it's so lovely.
It happens a lot there, there's a decent amount of masochistic people in that area.
And their sadistic partners, the ones that aren't even into it, will be too gentle, and come on, even I understand that it's very weak.
That kind of sex you can't find on some strange sex site, it's fucking trust in there.
It might seem strange, but to me, it seems normal, it happens, people enjoy it, they don't fucking force it (Cough cough religion! cough cough people-under-eighteen-near-McDonalds-with-their-fucking-electrical-bicycle!) and that's it.
I wonder what will happen with parents who murder their children as revenge against the mother.
And the fact that the fucking government won't hear her when she says that her ex-husband is a fucking danger to them.
A fourteen year old girl and an eleven year old boy were murdered, as a revenge.
Now the legitimate reaction is to send him to a death sentence that doesn't exist in Israel, instead we pay for a house, meals, exercises, and medications to fucking criminals.
But no, I think that he deserves to live in a quite long unbearable pain.
Drive him to suicide.
Being brutally murdered as an eye-for-an-eye kind of punishment will be a gift for that person.
I think that a slow and painful death will work if not suicide.
Maybe dehydration, or starving to death, and something that's probably freaking me out the most, drowning.
Drown him.
Drowning seems so sad to me.
So alone, you feel the water, slowly getting inside your lungs. Your body getting heavy, from the water within your lungs, and from the energy that left your body along with the oxygen. Then slowly you lose your eyesight, and you can no longer feel anything, not even the pressure on your ears from being underwater. And suddenly you think, as it's the only thing left, and you try, for one last chance to fight against the inevitable, until you slowly lose your consciousness, and you're gone, for good.
That's awful.
Burning as well, the heat seems unbearable at first, you feel your body, melting, and you see your skin turning darker and darker, while almost completely sticking to the clothes. After a while, it hurts less and less, until you are numb, because all of your nerves are burnt. You cannot feel at all, and your eyes, you struggle that they won't melt, and you close them tight, and then, feeling the heat near your head, you close them, tighter, and tighter. Suddenly, you feel suffocated, from the smoke, but you do not see anything that will leave smoke, and you see yourself -burning; Your flesh -dying; Your bones -cracking; And the feeling of your heart pounding, slower, and slower, as the adrenaline dies, just like your body. You cannot see, you cannot feel, you cannot taste, you cannot smell anything, as your nose have already melted. All that's left is your hearing, and you hear it all; Cracking of bones; Screams; And your helpless thoughts. And then, it all fades away, you have no clue about what's happening, but you have that sense, you're moving... You're falling.
It's awful.
I wish I could describe it better, sadly, I have nightmares from writing, as I learned to do it once.
Hated writing things that I didn't care about.
I know I should practice, I really want to make others sick to their gut from the violent graphic descriptions.
I know that most of my bullshit is my hormones, but, a question, the thoughts of blood coming away from me or from certain others, will it leave me as well?
I'm not completely against it.
I enjoy the sight of it.
Okay, I'm sorry if it triggers you (haha no!) but I'm going to tell you about some shit in funny sh moments.
It happens to quite many of the perfume users, when they accidentally spray it on an open wound, and yikes, it does hurt like a bitch.
My mother used to buy some spray that's supposed to do something to acne or something, and I once felt it burning and stingy, after I managed to get some cuts from a bracelet that I connected poorly with a metal that will leave some shallow cuts, I sprayed a lot, each shower I took, I spent a couple of minutes on the plain delight of that pain, it felt so good.
Oh!
A thought! Quickly! Write it before it disappears!
Today was the third day in row that I saw my friend, Yuval, wearing a long sleeved shirt, since I know this guy, and with each passing day he seems more tired and tired, I asked him why is he wearing long shirts, my friend asked him if it's hot, he said that it is, at that moment, my eyes were hoping that it's not what I thought it is, after a while he rolled up his sleeves and pointed on some weird... Well... I can't describe it, seems like a strange rash, he didn't want that everybody will see it, and that he was born with it, I told him that I never noticed it, and I let him go.
If any of my friends will do it, especially if they know, I'm going to relapse and not give a single fuck about anything, it will be my fault, and only my fault, I did it to them, and I deserve it.
And... I feel guilty already.
Fucking lovely pills, aren't they?
I see some burners in here...
I always wanted to try to burn something, but I'm afraid I'd be to fascinated.
And that I'd burn my tongue...
Inspired by you know who....
Okay, that idea can be very interesting, to use a needle to stab yourself and form a shape.
I might do that, I won't stitch my mouth shut, or nail my (non existent) testicles to a square in Russia, but I'll probably stab myself.
Can I tell you what scares me probably the most with small razors?
What if you try to go deeper (some weird need for clarification that I'm not a failure in everything, including bleeding) an the razor gets stuck.
Like, what are you going to do?
Okay, I'm starting to cry a little again, I disappoint everyone that I'm with, it's fucking sad.
And I can't trust people when they say I'm fine, and I'm just too harsh with myself.
It just makes me feel even worse.
I can't live anymore.
Am I fake?
After all... That whole stuff is only in my head, I'm not in real problems, it's just in my head!
Wow, today I deeply considered what should I do with all of those suicidal thoughts.
Set a back up plan.
Like, where would I do everything, to make the least mess.
I assume that on summer break, when my locker is empty.
Well, I should probably clean my room before it as well, it'd be easier if somebody will take it too hard.
I wonder if I should leave a note to the family, or to you, or just end it all, so abruptly.
Should I die outside of sight, or in home? Probably outside, even though that it's awful that other finds the body first, it's better than letting my sister or brother seeing his big sister in a pool of blood.
I'm crying now, thinking about ruining the life of my siblings with such a selfish act.
Only for wanting to do such a selfish act, it makes me want to kill myself, how the fuck does it make sense?!
I think I'm going to stop with the images, I feel so fake with them... Maybe I feel fake because I am fake.
Nothing in me is real, there are people with fucking serious problems, and there's me, trying to cope her non-real problems with self harming even though she knows that she can't do that until she's eighteen from the simple reason named "law".
I'm so fucking fake!
I hate it!
Everybody's problems are real, only mine are just in my head, they aren't real, I'm not miserable!
Everything here is my choice.
I chose to skip eating like a normal person and binge or fast uncontrollably since the fifth grade.
I chose to bleed instead of normally coping (even though that sports helped for a while, and then I had to turn to art because it stopped working and then I had to pay more attention to prove others I'm not a perfectionist, and now it's fucking pathetic).
I chose to swallow a pill to keep my body functioning like an average teen girl.
I chose to destroy my life, too bad that I was so fucking stupid.
I am choosing right now, to keep on torturing myself and calling myself fake.
Everybody there cuts deeper than me!
Look!
It's pathetic!
I can't even cut well enough!
I feel pathetic.
It's going to get back to me when I'll be eighteen, won't it?
I want something deep, disgusting, something that the doctors will call "the worst they've ever seen" and not be such a fucking cunt.
Oh, I'm so going to buy a shit ton of razor blades when I'd grow up.
Even if I wouldn't feel as suicidal, it's a self promise, I always make my promise.
I'm not like my dad when it comes to it.
Big insane wounds that will take a while to heal.
By the way, the first two pictures are from two years ago, the other two are from this year.
Isn't it all... Just... Fucking lovely?!
And a fucking obese tourist.
Gladly, I can always remind myself that I probably look like a teenager with cellulite while watching them (a cruel and hurtful joke : while whale-watching; I'm mean, I know it) that looks so fucking disgusting.
I know that my weight says differently, but does it matter when all I feel is fat?
I'm reading about comments for self harm threads on MPA.
I understand them.
I feel it, it's not triggering me.
Well, not in a way of "I got to cut myself because of yada yada yada" but it might have a chance to trigger when I feel it too, and remember it.
I...
Oh wow, so quickly! Already thinking about people abandoning me.
Gotta love messed up thinking!
....
I didn't found my iPhone while watching a video, so I ran quickly to the counter area, where the phone is usually is, I gasped (I never gasp, so it's really exciting!) and ran quickly back to my laptop, only to find it, where I started laughing because I just used it.
Today, I was in Jerusalem.
May I remind you that I'm allergic to nature?
I get all whiny, and sometimes hyper, and I just read weird stuff.
Starting from the probably strangest but lovely stuff that you can possibly find in a strange fetish adoring sex community, but nope, it'd be on MPA, go figure.
But it was on self harm side, and what the hell? It was a girl that asked other members if they ever experienced with your partner and you to cut each other and alike.
I find it amazing, how can you possibly trust somebody so much to do it, and the chances that you'd meet one is so rare.
It's stunning.
I'm seriously mesmerized, it's so lovely.
It happens a lot there, there's a decent amount of masochistic people in that area.
And their sadistic partners, the ones that aren't even into it, will be too gentle, and come on, even I understand that it's very weak.
That kind of sex you can't find on some strange sex site, it's fucking trust in there.
It might seem strange, but to me, it seems normal, it happens, people enjoy it, they don't fucking force it (Cough cough religion! cough cough people-under-eighteen-near-McDonalds-with-their-fucking-electrical-bicycle!) and that's it.
I wonder what will happen with parents who murder their children as revenge against the mother.
And the fact that the fucking government won't hear her when she says that her ex-husband is a fucking danger to them.
A fourteen year old girl and an eleven year old boy were murdered, as a revenge.
Now the legitimate reaction is to send him to a death sentence that doesn't exist in Israel, instead we pay for a house, meals, exercises, and medications to fucking criminals.
But no, I think that he deserves to live in a quite long unbearable pain.
Drive him to suicide.
Being brutally murdered as an eye-for-an-eye kind of punishment will be a gift for that person.
I think that a slow and painful death will work if not suicide.
Maybe dehydration, or starving to death, and something that's probably freaking me out the most, drowning.
Drown him.
Drowning seems so sad to me.
So alone, you feel the water, slowly getting inside your lungs. Your body getting heavy, from the water within your lungs, and from the energy that left your body along with the oxygen. Then slowly you lose your eyesight, and you can no longer feel anything, not even the pressure on your ears from being underwater. And suddenly you think, as it's the only thing left, and you try, for one last chance to fight against the inevitable, until you slowly lose your consciousness, and you're gone, for good.
That's awful.
Burning as well, the heat seems unbearable at first, you feel your body, melting, and you see your skin turning darker and darker, while almost completely sticking to the clothes. After a while, it hurts less and less, until you are numb, because all of your nerves are burnt. You cannot feel at all, and your eyes, you struggle that they won't melt, and you close them tight, and then, feeling the heat near your head, you close them, tighter, and tighter. Suddenly, you feel suffocated, from the smoke, but you do not see anything that will leave smoke, and you see yourself -burning; Your flesh -dying; Your bones -cracking; And the feeling of your heart pounding, slower, and slower, as the adrenaline dies, just like your body. You cannot see, you cannot feel, you cannot taste, you cannot smell anything, as your nose have already melted. All that's left is your hearing, and you hear it all; Cracking of bones; Screams; And your helpless thoughts. And then, it all fades away, you have no clue about what's happening, but you have that sense, you're moving... You're falling.
It's awful.
I wish I could describe it better, sadly, I have nightmares from writing, as I learned to do it once.
Hated writing things that I didn't care about.
I know I should practice, I really want to make others sick to their gut from the violent graphic descriptions.
I know that most of my bullshit is my hormones, but, a question, the thoughts of blood coming away from me or from certain others, will it leave me as well?
I'm not completely against it.
I enjoy the sight of it.
Okay, I'm sorry if it triggers you (haha no!) but I'm going to tell you about some shit in funny sh moments.
It happens to quite many of the perfume users, when they accidentally spray it on an open wound, and yikes, it does hurt like a bitch.
My mother used to buy some spray that's supposed to do something to acne or something, and I once felt it burning and stingy, after I managed to get some cuts from a bracelet that I connected poorly with a metal that will leave some shallow cuts, I sprayed a lot, each shower I took, I spent a couple of minutes on the plain delight of that pain, it felt so good.
Oh!
A thought! Quickly! Write it before it disappears!
Today was the third day in row that I saw my friend, Yuval, wearing a long sleeved shirt, since I know this guy, and with each passing day he seems more tired and tired, I asked him why is he wearing long shirts, my friend asked him if it's hot, he said that it is, at that moment, my eyes were hoping that it's not what I thought it is, after a while he rolled up his sleeves and pointed on some weird... Well... I can't describe it, seems like a strange rash, he didn't want that everybody will see it, and that he was born with it, I told him that I never noticed it, and I let him go.
If any of my friends will do it, especially if they know, I'm going to relapse and not give a single fuck about anything, it will be my fault, and only my fault, I did it to them, and I deserve it.
And... I feel guilty already.
Fucking lovely pills, aren't they?
I see some burners in here...
I always wanted to try to burn something, but I'm afraid I'd be to fascinated.
And that I'd burn my tongue...
Inspired by you know who....
Okay, that idea can be very interesting, to use a needle to stab yourself and form a shape.
I might do that, I won't stitch my mouth shut, or nail my (non existent) testicles to a square in Russia, but I'll probably stab myself.
Can I tell you what scares me probably the most with small razors?
What if you try to go deeper (some weird need for clarification that I'm not a failure in everything, including bleeding) an the razor gets stuck.
Like, what are you going to do?
Okay, I'm starting to cry a little again, I disappoint everyone that I'm with, it's fucking sad.
And I can't trust people when they say I'm fine, and I'm just too harsh with myself.
It just makes me feel even worse.
I can't live anymore.
Am I fake?
After all... That whole stuff is only in my head, I'm not in real problems, it's just in my head!
Wow, today I deeply considered what should I do with all of those suicidal thoughts.
Set a back up plan.
Like, where would I do everything, to make the least mess.
I assume that on summer break, when my locker is empty.
Well, I should probably clean my room before it as well, it'd be easier if somebody will take it too hard.
I wonder if I should leave a note to the family, or to you, or just end it all, so abruptly.
Should I die outside of sight, or in home? Probably outside, even though that it's awful that other finds the body first, it's better than letting my sister or brother seeing his big sister in a pool of blood.
I'm crying now, thinking about ruining the life of my siblings with such a selfish act.
Only for wanting to do such a selfish act, it makes me want to kill myself, how the fuck does it make sense?!
I think I'm going to stop with the images, I feel so fake with them... Maybe I feel fake because I am fake.
Nothing in me is real, there are people with fucking serious problems, and there's me, trying to cope her non-real problems with self harming even though she knows that she can't do that until she's eighteen from the simple reason named "law".
I'm so fucking fake!
I hate it!
Everybody's problems are real, only mine are just in my head, they aren't real, I'm not miserable!
Everything here is my choice.
I chose to skip eating like a normal person and binge or fast uncontrollably since the fifth grade.
I chose to bleed instead of normally coping (even though that sports helped for a while, and then I had to turn to art because it stopped working and then I had to pay more attention to prove others I'm not a perfectionist, and now it's fucking pathetic).
I chose to swallow a pill to keep my body functioning like an average teen girl.
I chose to destroy my life, too bad that I was so fucking stupid.
I am choosing right now, to keep on torturing myself and calling myself fake.
Everybody there cuts deeper than me!
Look!
It's pathetic!
I can't even cut well enough!
I feel pathetic.
It's going to get back to me when I'll be eighteen, won't it?
I want something deep, disgusting, something that the doctors will call "the worst they've ever seen" and not be such a fucking cunt.
Oh, I'm so going to buy a shit ton of razor blades when I'd grow up.
Even if I wouldn't feel as suicidal, it's a self promise, I always make my promise.
I'm not like my dad when it comes to it.
Big insane wounds that will take a while to heal.
By the way, the first two pictures are from two years ago, the other two are from this year.
Isn't it all... Just... Fucking lovely?!
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