Some days, it's just like a subtle trickle. I just feel the urge. I haven't cut in the longest time. Lately, it's like getting hit by a train. But here's where my weird problem comes on. I'm not actually having terrible problems in my life. Things are going as up and down as they used to be... So why do I want to go back? But there's this feeling. What is it. I romanticize it so badly, but why? Every time close to September, the days get cooler... The sky is blue, but with clouds scattered throughout, and then the days get darker... I love the dark. And soon winter hits. Winter is my favorite season. I view this time... I match it with the first time I ever seriously began to self harm myself in Gr. 10. And then I get all these flashes of colour. What is it? It's like a dark purple... An entire room tinged with it. What does that even mean? Does anybody actually understand what I'm saying? I don't even know half of it myself. But it's that feeling. It's just something, that I want to see it again. Row upon row of neat slices, marking up my arm. The feeling you get when you see the blood run down your arm into your hand. The entire process. What is wrong with me. I find it beautiful. I am a terrible person.