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I live my life, stained with blood and slits from a razor covering my hands. As I wear my mesh padded gloves, I feel the sharp pain of a fresh wound on the tip of my finger. I use my blood to seal letters I write. To prove it is my own. I sit here, in my parent's bedroom, typing this. My computer ceased to function in the month of May, on the 22nd day. I am now 15 years of age, pursuing a job. Yet, I am unsuccesful, due to my age. I recieved a letter from my first, and possibly last true love yesterday afternoon. A brain-twisting poem, and a...differant language was written on it in blood red ink. I haven't the slightest clue what the document read. I also have no way to contact any aqquaintances/friends now. A phone is my only communication outside of this house, and I have no one's number. I rarely use the computer, and everyone I knew has given up on communication with me. I know them no longer, yet this pains me.
 [Kadin] · Fri Oct 27, 2006 @ 02:48am · 0 Comments |
![[Kadin]](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/24/b3/336643856b324.png?t=1193909803_6.00_00 "[Kadin]")