dear · computer

Dear Computer,

     Guess what I did today! I cut.
     Yes. That's right. I cut. I'd never done that before. I'd never thought about it. I'm not suicidal.
     But after what that man called my father did to me. I wanted a way out. I wanted a way to feel better. I could've tried drugs until the grass was blue and the sky was green. I could've drank alcohol until I threw up all the bitterness inside me.
      I could've done many things. But the only thing I had was a razor blade I found in the medecine cabinet behind the mirror in the bathroom.

     I can't explain how it happened. I went in to take a shower. A long, hot shower to make me feel better.
     But then I saw it. I saw the razor blade. I reached for it. I examined it. Touched it all over. I saw my reflection on it and the anger bottled up inside of me came out. I wanted to slice him so bad with the razorblade in my hand. But he was nowhere near. So I let the razor blade slide gently across my arm.
     It hurt. But it was nothing compared to the pain I already felt. Nothing at all. I loved the warm feeling I got as the warm blood gushed over my arm. I felt so warm. So content.
     I kept slicing. After awhile I didn't feel any pain. In fact I think I was numb. I'm not sure. But I kept going.
     Soon, it seemed like I had done as much damage to my arm as I could. But I was not satisfied. I needed more.
     I stripped. I got into the bathtub and cut my leg. Once again, it hurt the first couple of times. But I soon grew accustomed to the pain.
     It was pure bliss. I loved the feeling I got when the warm blood seeped over my body and formed a small crimson puddle at the bottom of the bathtub. Blood is dark. But it wasn't a dark enough color.
     I kept cutting and slicing. But the blood never stopped flowing. I wondered how long it was until I died. I didn't care. It felt good.

     But all good things have an end. After sitting in my own blood for two hours and cutting myself I felt tired. Exhausted. I wanted to sleep.
    
     I decided to take a hot shower first.
     But the blood stains were very hard to get off the bathtub. And it hurt like hell when the hot water poured onto me.

     Cutting is almost like drugs. They feel good at first but in the end it hurts and you still feel shitty.

     God damn. I can't believe I did all that. It's not like me. But I know I did it. I have the scars to prove it.

What's My Mood?:

suicidal

Dear Computer,

     Today is friday. That's good. I wonder what I'm going to do this weekend? Not a lot probably. I have nothing to do. I have no friends to go see. No one to hang out with. No one to go to the movies with. No one to talk to on the phone.
     My principal stopped me today in the hallway and asked why I was going to the library. He said he saw me there everyday during lunch. He said, "Why aren't you with your friends eating lunch and socializing?" and I guess he expected me to say that I had homework to do or some big project so he was surprised when I answered, "I have no friends" and I kept on walking. He called my name but I had already turned the corner and I didn't turn around.

What's My Mood?:

apathetic

Dear Computer,

     I finally managed to talk to her in gym class. She seemed a bit freaked out at first but then we actually talked. It was great. She probably still thinks I'm a loser. But I'm hoping she's not like that. I really am. She seems like such a nice person. The perfect girl.
     The library was closed today so I had to find a place to sit at lunch. I wanted to sit at the table with the guy who invited me to his table the other day but today there were other people at his table so I couldn't sit there. Honestly, they seemed rather pleased. I sat at a different table instead. It seemed to be people like myself. People with no life. But I am still not like them. They knew each other and they talked to each other. I didn't know either of them. I couldn't participate in their conversation.
     If there's one thing I've learned though is that you can find out so many things about people just by listening. I don't talk much anyway all I do is listen. It pays off. It helps me understand people. But whats the point in understanding someone if you're never going to talk to them? I wish I could fit in. Maybe there is some club after-school for people like me. The Loser Club. Wow. My self-esteem is lower than usual today. Great.

What's My Mood?:

sore

Dear Computer,

     Once again I had trouble finding a place to sit at lunch. So instead, I went to the library today. I'd seen other people go there during their lunch period. I wonder if they can't find a place to sit either? The library is such a beautiful place. There's no one there to call me bad things, criticise me, hurt me, or aggravate me. I get lonely sometimes though. I wish I had friends. But at the same time I'm glad I don't have friends. It's safer that way.
     There's also a girl at school that I like. . . . a lot. It's very odd. I've never liked a girl this way before. I doubt she even know's who I am though. Seems like something out of a movie. Loser guy likes pretty girl. Typical.  But she's in my gym class, so maybe there's hope. I'll try talking to her soon. Or at least as soon as I've gathered up the courage to walk up to her and talk to her.

What's My Mood?:

enthralled

Dear Computer,

     I went with my mom to a thrift shop and we got a second-hand jacket. It's actually a very good jacket. It doesn't matter anyway, as long as it keeps me warm. My mom seems to be in a better mood now. I guess it's because the child-support check came in the mail today.
     At school I see kids with different jackets on everyday and I think about it and I say to myself, "Why do they need more than one jacket for?" And then they don't value what they have. They leave their coats and shoes all over the place. I only have one pair of old raggedy shoes and I take lots of care of them. Why? Because they are the only pair I have. I'm not like those kids at school who have everything. Sometimes when I'm laying in my bed I think about why it is that some people have everything and others have nothing. . . . Why?!
     I've never been a bad kid. Why do I have to get punished like this? Why?! I wish I knew why. I know life is unfair but does it have to be this unfair?! To make things worse I saw my mom walk into her room awhile ago with pills in her hand. . . . I hope she's not doing what I think she's doing.

What's My Mood?:

crappy