"Tell me again your fucked up excuses, dying fighting a life of abuse. When fame is your game, you say I'm to blame. But you know, but you know..."

At the moment I'm listening to "10.22 - Ben Moody".

Well, I've finally hit rock bottom.

Yay me.

My goals for today were:
- Throw up.
- Smoke.
- Sleep.
- Scream.
- Make myself bleed (ironically my cat did this for me, haha).
- Punch something.
- Remember as much of "The Raven" as I can.
- Be negative.
- Accidentally make people annoyed at my negative behaviour.
- Cry.
- Pretend.

All of today's goals were successfully achieved.

This is all I've remembered so far:

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow. From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore. For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain, thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before. So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more".