the wind and the rain smell of oil and octane

so, i'm deciding to post more mature blogs, more thought provoked and provoking. i usually just whine about my life, complain about what boy has hurt me and such. but not anymore.
today i've been thinking a lot about something that i generally think about.
perception.
have you ever wondered just how differently you see something from another person. like, what if what i see as blue, you see as red? up as down? smile as a frown? east as west and north as south. the thing is, you never know if what you see is reality or just your perception. what you see as right in another persons eyes is completely wrong and immoral.
who are we to judge people on theyre actions. who am i to say what you do is wrong or right?

so i'll ask a question, who perceives self injury as bad? why or why not?


Smoke gunpowder and go to school to jump through hoops, sit up and beg, and roll over on command. Listen to the whispers that curl into your head at night, calling you ugly and fat and stupid and bitch and whore and worst of all, "a disappointment." Puke and starve and cut and drink because you don't want to feel any of this. Puke and starve and drink and cut because you need the anesthetic and it works. For a while. But then the anesthetic turns into poison and by then it's too late because you are mainlining it now, straight into your soul. It is rotting you and you can't stop.
Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream that everysinglething is wrong with you

Used to be that my whole body was my canvas—hot cuts licking my ribs, ladder rungs climbing my arms, thick milkweed stalks shooting up my thighs. . . .

I am shouting my invisible words. I am getting so weary. I am growing tired. I am waving at you from here. I am crawling and looking for the aperture of complete and final emptiness. I am vibrating in isolation among you. I am screaming but it comes out like pieces of clear ice. I am signaling that the volume of all this is too high. I am waving. I am waving my hands. I am disappearing. I am disappearing but not fast enough