Three, nothing wrong with me.

Well, soon I'm going to the bus stop near the bank, so Shani and I would go to Tel Aviv.
From one side, I feel ashamed of going to drag her to some place that sells Manic Panic, but I really want them.
It's really weird, isn't it.
I haven't planned on how and where I'm dying it.



Oh, it's almost nine pm.
I want to cry.
And why is that, dear? I wanted to dye my hair, but I'm really anxious about it.
I really hate my skin colour.
I feel like I don't belong to anywhere...
I want to be normal, like everybody in my city, like my friends.
I can't stand it, it disturbs my life, it makes people treat me differently.
I want to have light skin, like everybody.
I want to die now, it's that bad.
I just feel like I'm degraded by it.
I'd love to get a paler shade.
I guess if it'll get worse and it'll carry on, I'd just go for mono-diets that makes me look paler.

It fucking sucks you know?
I just don't belong, I never did, and it blocks me even more.
I guess it's time again for lemon, skin moisturising, not eating properly.
I need to be alright.

I need to take care of myself.



I bought plenty of nice things in  Tel Aviv, but now I'm consumed by the feeling.
I started scratching myself, lightly, like a normal person, now I'm digging my nails into my disgusting arms.

You know, for a short while I actually thought I'd be content.
Accepting my personality and enjoying my looks.
Oh well, let's just carry on until the next rise, it's always funny to see me to get all scared to fall again.