It's just my journal.

Hello.

Hey there.
Why are you reading this?
I don't seriously mean anything to you, do I?
We're better off separated from each other. You know that, right?
You can lose me at anytime. One day I could just slit my wrists with a knife and then watch myself bleed out.
I wouldn't care. Why should you? I barely know most of you.
There are a few exceptions....but they're the only people who've stayed by my side.
They're not even my blood related family, isn't that great?
Despite what they constantly tell me, I feel the voices in my mind saying that they don't actually mean it. They probably don't know.
I don't tell them. I shouldn't be telling you, but I am.
Should I slit my wrists again?
They're already covered with irreversible scars, why not make more? Right?
No one would care.
Or maybe they will.
You never know when the only person to ask how you're doing that means it is a therapist.
I know that half the people on here, if answered them with how I was actually doing, I'd probably be called an attention seeker.
Never trust my replies.
It doesn't matter what it is.
Don't trust them.
They don't mean anything.
Heh. It seems so long ago that I would've been in the place you are now.
I'm over the edge, guys, there's no 'fixing' me.
I don't know how to fix me.
No one else knows how to fix me.
They just know there's something wrong with me.
Am I allowed to slit my wrists now?
Aren't I pretty?
Am I the perfect daughter now, mother?
Am I as skinny as you want me to be?
Hey, look, I'm smiling just for you,
But I know you could care less.
There will be a day where I can't stand it again.
There will be a day where I will try to commit suicide again.
There is a chance no one will walk in on me in time.
They'll just see me hanging there, or maybe lying in a pool of blood.
A suicide letter, two, actually.
One on paper for anyone I've ever cared about Irl,
And one for you,
My sweet followers. It will be in this book, looking as perfect as can be.
I will tell you all how I actually feel,
And I will tell the exceptions how grateful I really am.
Then I'll talk about fixing society, even if it is a total "cliché."
I don't care. It needs to be done.
I'll say how thoroughly sorry I am about giving up. How sorry I am about being weak.
Then, I'll explain to all the fuckers who call people attention seekers what the fuck you might actually be doing to that person.
You're fucking hurting them. Shut the fuck up and get off the fucking Internet, or at least stay the hell away from me. I don't even want you to retaliate. Why would you anyways? I'd be dead.
And last, but never the least, I'd mention my best friend, who knows exactly who she is. I'd tell her how she means the world to me and how much laughter she caused me. I also would tell her that I want her to keep doing that, because it kept me going for so long.
She was literally the only reason I was alive for a long time.
And then I'd end the letter, it wouldn't even be anything meaningful, it'd just be short, it would include a bunch of characters from various Fandoms that I love and then it'd end like any other excerpt from here.
You guys don't know how much I love those characters, they're fucking awesome.
This account would gather up dust and so would this book.
Anyway, that's all.
BYE!