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My heart is being sewed very slowly back together. In my heart there is about 2,893 razor blades. Each razor blade is shoved into me everytime I'm furtherly pushed toward suicide island. And yes I did te counting. To others they just think Im a freak. Screw them, they don't know how I feel. Its like having a razor blade shot into your body. Iv been emotionally scared, bullied, pushed, heart broken, in pain, abused, betrayed, and mentally played with over and over again. Repedently having the feeling of my heart being cut, bleeding out every little sorrow. I sometimes wish I could take a gun and get it over with, but I know that would solve nothing... so Im just gonna sit here with my 2,893 razor blades stuck in my little black heart... This journal makes me sad...2,894.