I dodge off into my room, throwing on a jacket for an excuse. wherearetheywherearethey. Digging through the drawer until I find the crimson box, I open it and search. I grab three razor blades.
Whatareyoudoinginthere?Hurryup.Hannersiscomingtopickyouupatten.
Slipping the sharp slivers of metal into my bag, I zip the inside pocket up and make sure everything looks right.
i'mcomingi'mcomingi'mcoming.
Stupid. Getting proper tools is like planning to cut. Giving myself permission. But I suppose it's no different than hoarding pencil sharpeners, just in case... like having a sewing kit and lighters and a mini exacto knife in my bag...
Breakfast: 1 apple.
Lunch: Crackers w/cheese and homemade red pepper jelly.
Dinner: A&W, ice cream. No escape. Fuck.
Other: 1/4 s'mores granola bar
Exercise: Paddocks, picking rocks.
Harm:
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