Scars on my wrist and ankles from more than one time with a razor. Some people say I am crazy, others think I am lazy. They say I do not have the will to live or die. I just sit and cut some more and let them wonder why. I want to feel alive, I want to feel normal you see. No matter what I do, I just walk around in a haze. It just doesn't come and go, it can last for days. When I cut the places that I have let bleed before, I feel something clearly. The pain drives away the fog and lets me see what others see or at least that is what I think. Perhaps one day I will go to far, but for now I will just let the cuts speak for me. For they tell a story that I never could you see.