She was young black and smart, she praised my keen wit,her journalism class all thought I was hot shit.She apologized for the overreactionof a certain...hysterical liberal faction."Words can't hurt anyone," I said. She agreed,and said "Regulation of speech we don't need."She said, "Only a wimp would expect the Stateto act as their nanny and forbid us to hate." Opinion's protected, even if it's not 'nice'",she said as she swirled her Drambuie on ice.She railed against censorship, free speech was. Blood helped. It floods the negativity and pain out. For somemoments at least. She thought about it a lot. She thought about cuttingagain all the time and there were moments it was hard not doing it.In her mind, the fresh razor blade carved through her skin several times.Like a warm knife through butter. Blood drops formed and ran down thearm. Dropped to the floor, leaving red sprinkles on the white tiledbathroom floor. She would just sit there and watch the blood. Smearingthe blood along the. More

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