Questions.

What's the point of life if you're unhappy?

I can see a point if you have friends and goals and dreams, but if you don't; What's the point?

Why is the world such a terrible place? And why are evils forced upon good people?

It's not fair.

I spent about the last hour crying; for my own sadness, for my mom's sadness, my grannie's sadness, for my family's sadness, for other people's sadness.

People shouldn't be sad. People shouldn't be mean to other people. It creates a terrible cycle of karma, and it morphs people into great balls of sadness, always remembering, always scarred.

I cut again today.

I tried out the razor blade that I stole from work about a week ago, but I prefer my scissors much more.

cut, cut, cut.

There was one cut that was perfect. A thick, non-jagged line. Like one of the fat markers that I never used as a child (I'd only use the skinny ones because the fat ones were ugly).

It bled and bled, that perfect cut.

I feel better.

Not good, but better.

♥,

Mint.

P.s. Is it weird that I usually only cut my left thigh, and my right arm? As my mother always says, "You have far too many rules for yourself."