It's sunday now. i'm feeling like shit. Giselle hasn't called. ovisually she doesn't give a shit whether or not i got tickets. it's not like she really was excited about them. if she didn't want to go why didn't she just tell me. God i hate friends. That sounds horrible, but they really complicate your life. but without themm, i'd be complaining even more. so it's a lose lose situtation. I am dreading monday baby. i feel like hell. i really am. Then again it's the last week of skool until xmas break. Oh God, Xmas. i really hate it. it is a stupid fucking holiday. especially when you can't afford anything. it's disgusting. i'm not excited about it at all. it's just another time to fight with the family. I can't believe everything that's happening. I feel like absolute shit. really i do. i wish i could just get hit in the face with something blunt and hard. maybe a baseball bat or something. just put me out of this misery. I wish i was unconscious. i have a little heart on my wrist, that i carved myself. i love it. it reminds me of my pain. it reminds me that i'm still human. My arm is like my scrapbook of pain. it'll never go away. sometimes i wish i wasn't like this. i wish that i had of gotten help in grade 7. but then i say, well without my razor, how would i deal with all these emotions. i mean i know it has gotten outta hand. i can tell because of how much it bleeds now, and now deep it is, and how easily it scars. i know i'm not that little fuck with a pair of scissors and no way to communicate it. now im a stupid fuck with a razor with no way to stop it.