I could just fall off a cliff right now.

I could just push myself off a cliff.

Still waiting for the magic razor to present itself to me so I can cut all of this away.

I have strange recollections of eating too much yesterday, but I can't remember what I did or what I ate yesterday. Today my dad made pasta even though I told him that if he ever made it again I would shoot myself. I ate more than I would have liked to, but I didn't binge. And all I ate other than that is some bread and a small sandwich this morning. And I worked a lot today. And I'm blowing off my homework for sleep, like I usually do.

I ate too much. My stomach is telling me. She's nagging at me to throw up her insides, she doesn't deserve this, she didn't ask for it. I'm sorry, stomach. I'm always burdening you. One day we'll run away together to a far-off place with walls thicker than cardboard where I can unburden you of my selfish mistakes whenever I want with no fear of being overheard.

I would give any amount of money in the world to just be able to be dead for a couple of days. Well, I'd give about 160 dollars because that's about as much as I have. I'll die, donate my body to science on a temporary rental, then they can cut me open to figure out what's wrong with me and when I'm alive again I'll know how to fix myself. And they'll leave me a scalpel as payment.

In other news, I love my kitten. The rest of my family hates him. I think he's cute. He can't help it that he's bad. It's just who he is. He likes to chew on things. People. He'll grow up to be really fat and mean.

In other other news, listen to the song "Welcome Home" by Radical Face. It's the most beautiful song that's ever been written.