November 23, 2002
either that or alcohol
Right now I feel like digging my nails into my arm until they leave four bloody red crescents. A row of relief brought on by the need to do something to alleviate the frustration I feel inside. It’s bubbling up like lava, rushing around desperately searching for an outlet. Leaving singe marks everywhere it goes.
I feel like biting down on my bottom lip until I taste blood. Sucking the wound and eating a lemon.. There’s nothing quite like the sting of lemon juice on wounded lips.
Instead I’m going to put on a pretty black dress and a shiny pair of combat boots. I’m going to spike my hair and put on lipstick and mascara. I’m going to smile and pretend that I couldn’t feel better.. and maybe by the end of the evening it’ll be true.
If not I always have tomorrow with the reality of Flick, Harry Potter and a book written in 1901 I‘ve been looking for for years..
8:39 p.m.