I'm Gonna Scream 'Til I'm Awake
Some days I really wonder about myself. Who I am, what my life is going to be..
I need to think, I need to feed
I need to see if I still bleed.
Tonight, for the first time ever, I cut myself just to watch it bleed. In all the years that I have been cutting, never have I done it for no reason. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that. It can't be a good thing though. I was just sitting, and thinking, and absentmindedly grabbed the razor and dragged it across my skin.
Interestingly enough, even though I wasn't really paying attention, the line is perfectly straight and the depth is even like all my intentional cuts. Even in the depths of whatever-that-was, I'm still a perfectionist.
If I knew when the door was open I'd go through
And I can't say when I do I'll never be the same
I just don't know what I'm doing, what I'm feeling. Things just don't feel right. What does that mean, anyway? How can something I've been doing for years randomly begin to feel wrong?
Despite my attempts to make things different, I've never been successful. Cliche as it may be, there's truth in that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Same situations, same empty feelings, same drugs, same drinks, same white gauze.
I've never been around so many people that are so much like me.
I've never felt so alone.
I need to think, I need to feed
I need to see if I still bleed.
Tonight, for the first time ever, I cut myself just to watch it bleed. In all the years that I have been cutting, never have I done it for no reason. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that. It can't be a good thing though. I was just sitting, and thinking, and absentmindedly grabbed the razor and dragged it across my skin.
Interestingly enough, even though I wasn't really paying attention, the line is perfectly straight and the depth is even like all my intentional cuts. Even in the depths of whatever-that-was, I'm still a perfectionist.
If I knew when the door was open I'd go through
And I can't say when I do I'll never be the same
I just don't know what I'm doing, what I'm feeling. Things just don't feel right. What does that mean, anyway? How can something I've been doing for years randomly begin to feel wrong?
Despite my attempts to make things different, I've never been successful. Cliche as it may be, there's truth in that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Same situations, same empty feelings, same drugs, same drinks, same white gauze.
I've never been around so many people that are so much like me.
I've never felt so alone.