Goddamn everything. And everyone. I am tired. But I am still awake. I laid in bed for awhile, I don't know for how long. But I am back here, and I am lonely. May could have something to do with VB and her shots. Of course I was only supposed to keep track, not participate. But whatever. I keep biting on my tongue because there is some cut on it that hurts. It hurts when I bite on it, but in a weird pleasurable way. Yeah, I'm a freak. Whatever. I wish I could bite the end of my tongue off. It hurts. And I hurt, and I wish I had something to show for that. Isn't it odd that people feel they need something to show for their pain? The pain isn't enough; they need something tangible. Like a bruise. Or a scar. Isn't it strange how the mind works in some of us? And isn't it strange that we should share that with virtual strangers?