I am not a fucking emo. There's a difference between being an emo and cutting. Emos are just people that do what they do because they think it's cool, because of their friends or because of something unrelated with depression.
I do this because I feel empty, bored, sad, with too many emotions at the same time and also I feel like this gives me a sense of control. I feel like there is something I can control in my life and that is something priceless. Almost.
I am not sure about what to do right now. I feel like I want more and more. I am just afraid that someone notices it because it's too much. The blade of the sharpener is a blessing from God.

John Lemon.

She feels dizzy and sleepy when she cuts. And there's blood and scars everywhere. It's easy, of course, without rules because there is nothing to hide. She's a child, a lost child, a lonely child, a loveless child. She can't understand what is wrong and what is right yet, she's inside the uterus of an alcoholic girl who was raped by her boyfriend. She hears noises from outside: cars, dogs, rain, people and screams. She can smell the blood around her and she can hear the beat of her mom's heart. She hears the blood running through her veins inside her body. Back and forth, back and forth. When she closes her eyes, is like they're inside her head looking at her brain. Sometimes it seems endless, or like she's having a heart attack. Mommy says "don't cut yourself". Mommy calls her a whore. Mommy asks and mommy steals. Mommy drinks sherry when she's awake and smokes when she's sleeping. Mommy is drawing. Mommy is taking pills. Mom, mother, daughter, sister, wife, girlfriend, rape victim, used to write "riots not diets". And Samantha knows that happened in order to avoid the suffering.
Samantha is sucking my vitality. She's taking away my codeine. Will you sing my hallelujahs? Oh fuck, where the fuck ? What's going on?