I find myself once again on the path to self destruction.

As I lie here and write my tedious thoughts whilst burning up in red-tinted bath water, it is not peaceful ‘relaxing’ thoughts that come to mind. A slight happiness appears however from the fact that I now know I am alive.

The stinging that comes from the freshly opened wounds on my lower torso exonerates my tear ducts, gives them a valid reason to expel the salty diamonds that are ten times more valuable than the jewel they resemble.

But then, do I need a reason to cry? Must I constantly justify myself to those around me?

The reason I welcome the rain so is not because of all the romantic possibilities, but who can distinguish in today’s society, no, who has to time to care, whether the glistening thing on my cheek is a drop of rain or a drop of raw emotion?

The ever so slightly sinister grin that my bitten lips accommodate is not there because I have been cooled down after a long days work.

It is there because they know that as soon as my bedroom door closes for the night, they will have the taste of bittersweet metallic cherries on them.

Delectable.

Do not label me maniacal for enjoying this taste. If only you knew the glory of it.

The only word that seems vaguely excessive enough to describe it is...

...freedom.