February 27th 2001

Something must be wrong with life today, they have been playing the same songs as yesterday, all night. What's up with that. It's Carnival, yeah, but that doesn't justify playing the same oh so funny songs that bring you in an oh so good mood two days behind each other. God Carnival is nothing but pretending, pretending to be in a good mood, only because it's a certain time of the year. I hate that. On tv they brought the biggest and longest Cranival parades, those further north. It's unbelievable, tonight they drink and have fun and run around in their disguise and are in a good mood, and tomorrow their life starts again, with seriousness, pessimism and a negative outlook on everything. No smiles, no laughter, nothing, until November 11th 11.11am, when carnival starts again. That's pathetic isn't it.

I am in a different mood tonight, I feel like writing, like if I could write all night without ever writing a thing that us fake, wrong or just pretended. I wrote a letter to Michael earlier, one that goes into 'unsent'. Before that, a few hours, I'd written him an email. It was difficult because I wasn't sure what to write because I didn't want to upset him, and I didn't want to meantion anything negative that could have reminded him of his destiny, of his self chosen destiny. But that doesn't make things any easier for him. I wouldn't want to die, also if I'd been my own choice because I can't spend the reast of my life in a hospital, undergoing chemo, having done so for the past 18 months, while not much had improved and chances were very low, and the pain was incredible already? What would I do, choose a few months of life that I'd have 100%, or a couple of months in the hospital that can result in either my death or in a longer life, while none of none is sure? It's confusing.

I need to get rid of these thoughts somewhat, I need to write them down, to bring them to paper, something to express them and something to llook at, something I can considere my thoughts. Just something so that not everything is in my head only. I need to show that they exist, make them real. I feel that I have so many thoughts, so much to say, so many feelings that need to be expressed, but I can't seem to express them at the moment being, I am just stuck here typing like crazy, in a speed I'd consider anything but human, but here I am, trying. Gosh what's up with all that, is it too much I ask for or what.

I cut yesterday night, I remembered my dad's razorblades, of course, for his shafer. But it was late and I was afraid my parents would wake up if I opened the cupboard to take one. I saw one of my brother's one time shafers lying on the washing mashine, one of those that are plastic but with a razor. The razorblade was inbetween two plastic pieces and it was easy to get it out with the help of scissors. I'd never cut with a razorblade before, and I was extremely surprised when I saw how sharp it was and how easily it cut. I accidently touched it a bit too tight with my fingers and immdeiately had cuts that bleeded quite a lot, I hadn't made those intentionally. I have four moer streaks on ym arm now, from that razor. It bleeded like hell. I don't know if I will cut today, I can't say. Maybe I will, maybe not. It's nothing I plan, it just happens when it does.

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