The world has no saviour
Mar. 29, 2002 ] 3:08 AM
A sudden wave of tiredness hits me, a roll of undulating emotion that snakes around and coils round my heart, choking it. An insidious voice in my head going,"Kill yourself now. You have nothing left. You pathetic little worm. It doesn't hurt. You watched the razor slice through your skin before with a detachment that seemed not of your own before. It didn't hurt. Just cut along the lines of your arm. A follow the line puzzle."

I'm tired. I should go rest now, but why am I on the verge of tears and in such a confused state? Why am I crying? Why should I cry? There is nothing I should be feeling lacrymable about. Nothing at all. I am happy. Yes, I should be happy. Happiness is such an elusive thing and I have trapped it. So why am I so sad?

I know the answer. But I do not like it. Questions unasked and masked in the heart are better left unsaid. After all, I change my mood all the time. I'm so tired now. I should go sleep.

After all, he is coming up tomorrow. Up. Such a pretty word. Such a detestable feeling to have pride in that description.

I am so trite. To actually make a conscious effort to wear that bracelet he gave me when I see him tomorrow. Or to wish Strawberry happiness in such an ingenue manner. You little pathetic worm. How much more of this mortal coil will you suffer to despoil? Go bleed in penance you stupid bitch.

Christ will not be resurrected until Easter Sunday. The world has no saviour.

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