"Cut." It's a curious word. A word that if you ever said "I cut, I love it, I do it every day," people would think you're insane. but, some people are. Like me. I want to cut, BAD. But I'm too much of a pussy. I know the consequences. And I, frankly, don't care about them at all. I've made a plan to keep from getting caught. A full-proof one, at that. The only obstacle remaining is me. I want to, but at the same time, I don't. It's confusing. And the confusion makes me angry. And the anger makes me depressed. And the depression only fuels my want -no, NEED- to cut. I wish it weren't like this. But in reality, we all know, wishes don't come true. At least not mine.