So, I was just relaxing in my room on my bean bag chair snapping the hair tie on my wrist to subdue the urge to slice and dice.(Recovering cutter. It’s an addiction just like heroine and stuff.)

I thought “**** this ****. I’m gonna play Lilith. I was playing Miss Murder(AFI Log in to see images! and says the following verbatim; “Hey, Charlotte… You’re playing your guitar and singing a little loud…. Could you turn the volume down a bit?”

****. Turn the volume down on Miss Murder? That’s like turning the volume down on my SOUL.

Needless to say I responded.

“**** YOU ****! You are NEVER gonna understands me. Maybe I’ll kill myself! **** THIS HOUSE, **** THIS GUITAR, AND **** YOU!” Then Mom just walked away like she always does, ****ing starts **** with me then disappears.

After I calmed* myself, I apologized to Lilith. I’m working on a poem to vent my sorrow and despair into. This is the title. “Mothers just don’t understand.”

*read as “Cut a pattern of a random fictional anti-hero into my arm.”