I don't know why the title. It just came to me when I started this thread so yeah. Currently I'm restricting my self harm to my upper left thigh, where it can easily be hidden in short shorts or a skirt when summer comes, but I'm finding as soon as the older ones start to heal and fade, I do more, and I'm losing skin. I don't want to move to my right thigh, I don't know why not, I just don't. Like I see it as a completely different part of me, my left one. Like the part that I can channel all my self hate into. In regards to when I self harm, it has no real set pattern besides twice now it's been during/after I hear my housemates going at it. Generally, as I said before, it's just when my older ones start to heal too much for my liking. My mind frame when I do it isn't self hatred,nor numb, or anything. Actually, I'm amused at myself. I'll sit there, my head tilted, and watch the blood well up with an odd sense of fascination and an urge to go deeper. I can't though, it's too dull, and if I break another disposable razor my housemates will find out. Actually I don't know why the thread. I guess I just wanted to share my thoughts, as they're a complete contrast to my most recent poem in Poet's Corner. It's like I look forward to the pain, the sharp sting of the metal slicing. Meh.