Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Fourth Drink Instinct
January 3, 2010.
Hello again, Zack.
Frank thinks I made progress.
I think he's a liar.
I didn't make progress, I didn't accomplish shit.
All I accomplished was getting frustrated and jamming my pencil into my wrist.
I got lead poisoning.
It was nice.
I actually -felt-.
Frank's reading over my shoulder right now, and I'd like him to know that such a habit is a characteristic of a dirty good for nothing motherfucking bastard.
Fuck off Frank.
He left now, I guess I'll try again.
I want so badly just to escape, I'm willing to try anything if Frank thinks it will help.
I don't think this'll work in the slightest. But it's worth a try.
Save me.
Music isn't even an escape anymore.
It started in high school. I felt so ignored, so invisible, so fucking worthless.
Nobody cared.
It only got worse as time went on.
During the summer I'd ignore my "friends", deny any contact with them.
I became a loner.
There was a constant...tornado, I guess, in my head.
A whirlwind of pent up emotion that had built up over the few years.
Hatred and sadness and loneliness.
They're still there, you know.
Cutting became my outlet.
Small cuts at first would do it.
I savored that slight burning feeling in my skin.
The sight of blood welled up against the slits.
Fuck. I can't talk about this.
-Gee
Hello again, Zack.
Frank thinks I made progress.
I think he's a liar.
I didn't make progress, I didn't accomplish shit.
All I accomplished was getting frustrated and jamming my pencil into my wrist.
I got lead poisoning.
It was nice.
I actually -felt-.
Frank's reading over my shoulder right now, and I'd like him to know that such a habit is a characteristic of a dirty good for nothing motherfucking bastard.
Fuck off Frank.
He left now, I guess I'll try again.
I want so badly just to escape, I'm willing to try anything if Frank thinks it will help.
I don't think this'll work in the slightest. But it's worth a try.
Save me.
Music isn't even an escape anymore.
It started in high school. I felt so ignored, so invisible, so fucking worthless.
Nobody cared.
It only got worse as time went on.
During the summer I'd ignore my "friends", deny any contact with them.
I became a loner.
There was a constant...tornado, I guess, in my head.
A whirlwind of pent up emotion that had built up over the few years.
Hatred and sadness and loneliness.
They're still there, you know.
Cutting became my outlet.
Small cuts at first would do it.
I savored that slight burning feeling in my skin.
The sight of blood welled up against the slits.
Fuck. I can't talk about this.
-Gee
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