- Have No Regrets (?) -

1 (?) - HEALNORMS (?)

December 1st, (?)

So this is my diary, hm? Geez, why do I have to write in this like a girl? Oh well, maybe it'll be therapeutic. After all, I need it. Ah, maybe I can write some poetry in here. Or some cool stories. I'll test myself as an author, a famed writer.

That's my dream, after all.

A world renowned genius of literature, mechanics, politics and more.

Soon, I will take on the world.

Soon, the world will know who I am, and love me.

January 15th, (?)

Like Him

I like to run.

I like to run really fast.

I'm blue, and I have peach arms too.

I'm just like him, and he always won.

I'm just like him, but I'm always last.

If I write, read, talk and create things better than he can, than what am I really?

If he can run, jump, fight and save people better than I can, is that why I can't live freely?

Everyone loves him, almost nobody hates him.

I love him too, even though I'm always blue.

Maybe I can make someone like him, in my notebooks with a new story.

If I play my cards right, perhaps I too can achieve sweet glory.

...Too bad this can't be reality.

February 27th, (?)

Red Paintings

There are red paintings all over.

Some are blue, some are purple, or old brown.

But red always comes first.

First, you take your hand, and put it in a bucket full of red paint.

Then, you raise your arm and swing it around.

Doesn't matter where you aim,

...So long as you hit me.

Ah, now my body is as beautiful as the The Last Supper!

So many greens, so many yellows and purples and oranges.

So many blues, old browns and reds.

But it looks like you made one big mistake.

You missed a spot.

My white, blank heart.

You've been playing as 'it', one too many times with that paintbrush.

And you never finish the damn canvas.

You idiot.

You monster.

Why don't you finish it already?

...Guess it doesn't matter now.

'Cause now it's my turn, and you can't stop me.

We play by my rules, and I shall ban you from my art room.

I'll do it all by myself.

Finish it all by myself.

This time, I'll paint myself black and blue.

But it won't be with a brush, or a fist.

Or with a leg, or a finger or a knee.

It'll be with something silver and sharp.

Soon, I'll fill up the tub with red paint.

But first, I must dip.

March 27th (?)

Garbage Garbage Garbage!

So much trash.

Ah geez, it's everywhere! Too much to clean.

I can barely breath, it stinks so bad.

These vitamins, these colorful fruits and green veggies.

If you have a lot of trash, you need plastic bags.

Plastic bags made of purging.

It's real simple! A few easy steps.

Take two fingers, and shove it down your throat.

Poof! Just like that, all this nasty trash is gone.

The old food that barely digested, and the drop of water you had a week ago.

You don't need things like that in your body.

You look ugly.

He says so.

And I think they say so too, if you could hear them.

But you can't, because you're too damn full of yourself. Aren't you, you pig?

You better listen to mister mirror. Mister mirror knows all.

...That's what I would say, if any of this was self taught.

You didn't learn this on your own, your body did.

I mean, you've been punched there so many times.

It's so hard to keep food down, now.

It's almost like being pregnant.

You're hungry, but it never wants to stay in.

It rejects everything.

You can never keep the trash.

The trash that makes you happy, that makes your tummy happy.

But no, your guts are too screwed up to collect trash.

Oh well.

Maybe you can eat in another life.

You know, the one that isn't this one.

April 9th (?)

My first attempt.

I failed.

After all that planning two months ago, I failed. I was really going to do it.

Damn it...

May 16th (?)

Second attempt: Similar results.

I failed again.

God fucking damn it, why can't I get it right!?

And why do I keep healing so damn fast?!

June 23th (?)

I haven't written a poem in forever. Oh well, here goes nothing.

Whoever You Are, I Hate You

Whoever they are, make worlds.

Whoever they are, make universes.

Whoever they are, can make people.

Whoever they are, can destroy people.

Whoever they are, are able to curse people.

Whoever they are, are able to bless people.

Whoever they are, cursed me and blessed him.

Whoever they are, made me sick and made him healthy.

Whoever they are, made my life sad, and made his life happy.

Whoever they are, can be very sadistic and twisted. But can also be nice and gentle.

So like my words, that now form a slope of hopelessness, I say to you,

Whoever you are:

I hate you.

I. Hate. You.

You made a world of happiness, and a world of sadness. Why do I have to live in the latter?

Why does he get to be loved, and I, hated?

Why do you keep me alive?

Why do so many people take their lives for granted?

Why must I fight to find any sort of value for mine?

I- Shit.

Damn it, I can't continue. He's banging on my door right now. He wants something. The hell does he want now? Probably this stupid speech. I thought the ruler had to write it himself. Whatever, like I care. I'm not even done. Maybe I can jot down a few more words and let him do whatever he wants.

...

Alright, that's all he wanted.

Now I can go back to what I was doing.

He was way too merciful this time. Maybe he'll come back at night and do something to me. I'll just pretend to sleep or hide somewhere. Wait, I hear footsteps. Damn it, he's coming back!

...

I'm, being rewarded?

He's letting me eat? He's letting me go outside? He was actually proud of me! Oh my God, I...I don't know how to feel about this! Maybe, maybe my view of life was all wrong. Maybe, maybe he's not a bad person. Maybe he really does...I, I can't help but feel happy. I've never been happy before! I should go out and do something! Maybe I can sit in a park or watch the sunset.

Yeah! That's what I'll do!

Today is mine!

This world is mine!

END - ?

"Healnorms."

Healing is normal.

Don't forget to read chapter 19 first.