2002-05-07, 6:18 p.m.

i dont know. as soon as i started typing, i feel like crying. everytime i feel them coming up to form in my eyes. I swallow them back. stop thinking about whats bothering me. let my head throb longer.

i want to leave again. i want my parents to leave. i want to run away. i thought for so long last night thinking where i could go. christie's isnt an option because my parents would look there first. i took apart another new razor. i love new razors the most and im almost afraid of them the most. i have a large scar from my last cut that i did. the first one that scared me. that was done with a new razor.

i just went downstairs to get my plant. the one i planted for Julio. I imagine walking into his office holding the plant i grew from a seed full of flowers and blooming and beautiful and him being happy with me. him liking me. it hasnt grown flowers yet, though it does have...what are they called...the thing that has the flower inside before it blooms. i want to say bulbs but i know thats not right.

my mother said "melissa, i have a plant thats not doing so well..."

i almost thought she was going to ask me advice about it as i pulled the weeds from my own plant. i reliazed i was crazy because there is no reason for her to ask me when she could ask my father. there is no reason for her to ask me even if my father didnt know everything and anything about plants. my mother has never asked me my opinion on anything. she hardly asks me anything relevant at all. she ended up saying "do you want to put your plant here?" i just said no. i wish i didnt have to be so nasty to her. i wish i could just be supressed and kind of look at her blankly. let her know i dont want to talk to her. but i am so angry.

i suppose ill cut. i mean, i already got the bandaids out. and i love when i put a sweatshirt on with a tanktop under it and feel the cuts in my loose clothing.

I unwrapped one clean, sterile bandage. I picked up my razor but placed it down again. I will need more than one. I took a deep breath. This is weird. I usually don't think so much. About my motives. It should be beautiful. comforting. i need to stop writing about it. one more bandage, then I will go.

I wonder what someone would do If i called them up and told them I am about to cut myself. Or IMed someone. how would they react? If I said "Yes, i have a razor in my hand and 3 bandades lined up in front of me. what do you think of that? No one to tell. I'll just go.

phone rang. okay here we go

damn phone.

Idea: Freaky obsessive christian. IMed him. Lets see how he responds:
Honnnney B: just out of curiousity in my weird, deranged self, what would you do if i were to tell you i am about to cut myself. that i have my bandaids neatly lined up and my razor placed right next to it?


No answer. 6:51. Hm. Okay, if he doesnt reply by 6:53, I'm just going to do it.


Why am I still here you ask? Lost track of time. Still no answer:
Honnnney B: I see. Well, I'll just go on with my buisness.


I am now doubting or not wether to go through with his. Max has came on and my boredom and pointlessness for this hour has been filled. oh well, bandaids are out, razor steriled.