Every day I tiptoe, nails on my feet painted with fading red colour when closing the window, watching impartially morning gloom.
Today I went home in the middle of school time partly because of unbearable cramps and maybe I was just sick from that friends' chatting about prom hairstyles in free lesson. All I can remember was me unintelligibly murmuring a name of a painkiller, my friend dragging me out of class and curling up on cold dirt floor. All I remember is my dad saying jokes when I almost vomited across the backseat. Deep intake of breathe and I thought of Crash.
Sometimes in the bus I look at those people and think: They are just like papier-mâché figures, hollow inside and their surface painted in glow rainbowy colour, so vivid and so sharp. I imagine the paint on faces ebbing away and I can see wrecking of thin paper which are papier-mâché figures made from. When you do not like things around you, you can change them.
Every day I open window before I go to sleep and want to yell loudly into the dusty air NEW LOVE GROWS ON TREES!
And when there's nothing else to change -, you just change yourself.

CES Student Card as a bookmark, a human being as endless source of inspiration. I haven't updated CheapTherapy (I deliberately don't call it by its correct name) for a while, but it doesn't mean I am not sick. Apart from missing everything what could be somehow connected with my personal kingdom of addiction, I don't care about others talking I-wanna-kill-myself and My-life-sucks shits howsoever it does sound arrogant and I don't feel comfortable with it, but I can say I am over this. My mother informed me today about upcoming family session next week, which was surprising, because I usually get to know about this stuff one day before.
I felt so nice in the most english way when my hair was sticked with hairspray more than ever before and wayfarers skidded on my nose and then there was a farewell. Pseudo-singing Be Safe and me shouting Stop! Well, yeah, Stop!