My mind is still. I'm floating. It's beautiful and terrifying, but most beauty is.
I'm at my Dad's house, in a different state than where I live. He works everyday. I'm alone, on a farm, in the middle of nowhere. There is so much temptation here. So many pills and knives, so many sharp little friends whispering at me from their homes. He wouldn't find me for hours, he isn't home to. Or I could jump, into the massive man made cliffs that the mines have produced. I think of my life in vague terms at the moment. So...insignificant. Everything is so very insignificant.
I tried to do some homeowork. Time's moving so slow.
My dad thinks that people who attempt suicide are weak and such. He walks around singing: If you're Raki and you know it suicide. He thinks it's funny. I wonder if he would if he actually knew me.
I haven't smoked in just under a week. Not really out of choice. I miss it.
Anyway, enough of me complaining. Hope everyone is well.
