Everything is appearing to be a lie. Everyone keeps lying to me.
I hate everything and everyone but why the hell, despite hating everything do I still feel a need to be with someone and to be cuddled up with them. This whole things is really contradictory and confusing.
Half of the reason I worried about people seeing the cuts on my wrist is because I’m ashamed of how shallow they are. They’re beyond a scratch but they’re not deep. I wish they were deep but I’m too much off a wuss just in case I hit an vein or artery.
