I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell. I know, right now you can't tell. But stay a while and maybe then you'll see A different side of me Unwell - Matchbox 20
"Why inflict pain on oneself, when so many others are ready to save us the trouble?"
George Pacaud (1879 - 1937)
*hugs*
I've been in Germany for the past week, and i have missed these threads so much!! some of your last posts broke my heart, i hope you're feeling better now!
*changes the go to the bone dance to a go olive branch dance - its basically the same but a bit better ;)*
keep it up you are an amazing writer
xx
Last edited by twolittleducks : 25-05-2009 at 03:04 PM.
It is three fourteen. I am sixteen years old. I am in Maths. It is a single lesson- we will be finished at four. This makes everything seem a little brighter. It is hard for me to understand why anyone couldn’t love doing what I am doing. To just be given the hardest equations they dare throw at me and challenging me to not understand. In the end- I always understand. I have to. My mind isn’t quite in the right place however- it flickers around the logarithms and then circles around David until I notice what is happening. I force myself to think of my subject again but this morning was wonderful distracting. I keep remembering the solemn glances, his eyes watching my scars carefully as they twist and turn with my skin- they look like the zips of my skin. As if each section of skin is only separated by an inch of fabric. As if underneath it all I am just as vulnerable as any normal person. I know that I am stronger, I can bear the pain and not cry, I can scream at myself and not care, I can resist the urge to eat, I am strong.
He watched me run. He wants me safe. He touched my face. He knows my name. I feel my heart speed slightly; I calm it and continue the exercise. Number after number flow from my pen- a second language which comes far more naturally than the first ever did. I don’t need to think about it- my hand and subconscious can do the work for me. My mind and heart are busy.
System A
Sophie Mandi Max Gwen Mercy Erin AVA Tracey Bridget My Isaac
It is twelve fifteen. I am five years old and everything is going a little bit wrong today. My hair looks all funny and some of it is sticking out to one side. My teacher told me off for talking in class EVEN though I was trying to tell someone else what we were supposed to be doing. I forgot my book for the reading corner and now I want to go to the toilet but a lot of boys were mucking around and pretending to go even though they didn’t need to.
I think Mummy is angry with me too, she wouldn’t talk to Daddy about it. Daddy called her sweetheart, which is normally what he says then she will tell him but she was too angry even to tell Daddy. I don’t know what I have done wrong I just hope that she can tell Daddy because he is the one who will make her better. I want to have a husband who I am friends with when I grow up, then he can make me feel better whenever I have a bad day. And, because he has a ring on his hand he can’t run away. I would have one too.
I wonder what happens if you take off the rings? Are you allowed to go away? I don’t really understand it but then I’m only little still, I think it doesn’t matter to me yet.
System A
Sophie Mandi Max Gwen Mercy Erin AVA Tracey Bridget My Isaac
