Blogging the second time today. I just hope I didn't trust the wrong people. I don't know. People are scary. They can change in 1 sec.

Maybe, I should really just pass my penknifes to others. Then I would stop cutting. Maybe that'd save me. Would it? Should I do it?

I'm gna try & eat veges now. Cause you told me to.. Girl, I miss you yknow? I don't know why. I remember you throwing my penknife into the sea, I remember you chasing me along the coast to get my penknife to throw it, I remember you nagging again&again for me to stop cutting. I remember it all.

I remember sending you sweet texts & you saved it. I remember you sending 'em back to me & asking me to listen to my own advice. I remember you asking me to be late with you. I remember you hiding my stuff for me when we were late.

Remember once, we stopped talking. But we were both caught for late. You offered me sweets. You know how happy I was?

I remember me chasing you around. I remember you punching him cause he took your phone. I remember you piggyback me all the way cause my leg was hurt. I remember....

Honestly, girl, I miss you. I don't know why. But it's okay. I shall just pretend I hate you. (:

I should listen to Daniella. But I can't. Even right now, I've the urge to cut. I hate this. Please, go away. Please, don't make me cut. Please... I don't want to feel like a freak anymore. It's scaring me. Please.. Don't let me cut myself again.

I wish the urge to go away. Idw to feel this way. Why am I a freak? Why can't I stop cutting? Seriously. Why is everyone else so happy? Except me... Why can everyone be happy without cutting? Except me. Why is everyone so fucking beautiful & skinny? Except me. Why am I always the weird one, the freak? Just why. I don't understand. Why me..

Will everyone stop caring in the end? Do people really care for me? Or are they just curious? Do they think I'm a freak? Do they think I'm weird? Do they think I'm crazy?

If I do, what will happen? Will we stop texting? Will we stop talking? Will you avoid me? Okay, I obviously know the answer. But well, I just wish to run away from reality.

When can I be good enough for you? When can I be smart enough for you? When can I be pretty enough for you? When can I be cute enough for you? When can I be skinny enough for you? When can I be sporty enough for you? When can I ever be good enough for you?

I just wna be good enough. I wna look like those pretty girls you see everywhere. I wna be as skinny as 'em. I'm never good enough. Never.