I don't know who this is anymore. This...demon that has taken over my body. This possession, it isn't me. Its something else that is inside of me. And I can't get it out. I can't get it out at all. Not even with the bleeding, the changing, the crying, nothing can get this possessor out of my system. This thing. It makes me hurt myself, hurt the ones that love me the most.

And that's what hurts the most.

When I hurt the ones who love me, who just want to help me.

It makes me feel like all I am is a useless waste of oxygen. I mean, if I can't be helped, even by my own mother and best friend and boyfriend, then how the hell am I supposed to help the world?

Isn't helping the world everyone's purpose? Isn't everything someone's meant to do supposed to help the world in some way?

To teach the younger generation, to cure illness (of all kinds), to make something beautiful out of something simplistic?

All of those purposes, help the world.

But what purpose do I have? None. So I shall let my body rot and hope this possessor rots along with it.