Seriously, my shoes!!

Sitting here at quarter to one in the morning, thinking and thinking and, you guessed it, thinking.

Not pleasant thoughts, quite disturbing thoughts actually. What to do, what to do?
I have listened to the voices and observed things about myself.
For instance, I want to cut so I have a shower and make myself clean, wash my hair and de- fluff myself. I make myself acceptable. I make sure that I am ok to cut and that I wont be seen as ugly or dirty if I get it seen to, I make sure that I can go for a few days letting the would heal before I need to shower again.
Oh, The Plans that I have.

I cant be alone in doing that, but then again, I must be. I am alone, always alone, ok, always ok.

I want to cut my chest. I want to cut from breast to breast. I want to get the bad out of there, stop the pain in there.

What does it matter? Its only me, I don't matter.

The voices are getting too much for me, they argue constantly, much like my parents. The voices argue about me, much like my parents.

Stop thinking, just do.

Obliviation, my shoes for obliviation.