I Have a Plan

^Last words written on me paper diary.

Maybe, not all hope is lost. Is it possible that the last bits of creativity have thought up a great send-off, my salavation, perhaps?

I thought it up yesterday, decided it was a crazy, mad, folly idea and why hadn't I thought of this in the first place?

I'm going to spurn my SG. Literally. Physically. I'm sending it to Ria, and I won't cut (we only have disposable razors and I can't get the blade out) cos I literally can't.

I got to this conclusion because Mancs was so much fun, and interviewing all those people, the four hour train journey, Lazerquest (think paintball, indoors, in the dark, with lazer guns) gave me much needed breathing space. I able to look at my problems from many miles away, for I didn't bring SG (scissor god) with me in fear of sharing a room and losing myself. But I had my own room, and at night I walked around in a strappy red top which I hadn't worn for months. I wore long tops instead at night in fear of being caught. I hadn't worn short tops since February (!!! February !!!) and I felt so, so comfortable. The idea came there.

This may/may not turn me mad, but this is my last chance. I can't relive being 12 again. Its made me the fucked up piece of shit I am, and I can't survive that. Never. So, thats the plan, and I'm sticking to it.