I hate this room. 4 walls painted red and only one widow. It's too small. Perhaps it's because i'm always in here but, i just want to scream. I can escape but where too? A house that is even more of a prison? The only time it feels like i can escape it when it's warm and rainy or when i hurt myself. Even then it doesn't last long. I know the solution to the problem. It's a work in progress to fix it like most things. Is that an excuse? I don't know. I look forward to Monday though. I hope it goes...

I find it interesting that people say i look beautiful and skinny, yet they still call me fat or tell me how something is unhealthy for me. There's only 1 person in this world that doesn't give a fuck about how i look...or atleast i think he does. It's hard to tell sometimes...why do people like to play games? Is that all i am to them? A toy? And i mean that in almost every way possible. But i've decided to stop hurting myself. Because afterwards i just feel worse. I wonder if insulting myself in...

Everything was going so right. It hadn't in awhile. Now....i don't know....today was just...bad? I wanted to cry so many time, i scratched so many times, i starved myself, and i fought with most of the people i care about; which isn't many. So, now i feel empty and tired and lonely. I just want to sleep but i can't...i want to sleep forever but then i'd miss out on so much.