Shortly after learning I suffer from a cetrain personality disorder (AvPD), living on seems to get worse. As the days seem to darken my soul rots alone in this dying world.

I was given a sign finally-or so I think. Mixing glue and paint and leaving it, once returning a deadfull image appears, an eye in the top left, eyeballs scattered, dark -angel-like subquent creatures appearing twice. Wings unfolding on the top right, and the bottem pitch black seeming to be clawing out to taint. Stray arms every so often. What it means? I wonder.

Masochism plauges me now. Every so often I choke myself until my face turns purple, and perhaps after slightly. It feels invigorating.

My art appears to be getting better.I now hold aspirations to become a Mangaka. Though I know inevitiably it will fall, then burn me.

The new guidence person- I lack to remember how to spell the word- say people love to have me at the classrooms, and the desk woman - I lack knowledge once more- says people worry about me. My muse responds "About damn time!" It makes me think only slightly, but I honestly care less. They never actually care, I wonder why they would now.

I seem to be slipping- Only slightly though. I wonder what death is like. It sounds fun.

Hn;
~Enter name here