Emo: good music genre? Yeah.
Emo: clothing style? Sure.
Emo: lifestyle? As Ben Kingsley said in Sexy Beast: no no no no, no no no no, no no no no, no.
I like emo. It's a bit annoying how trendy it is these days, but I still like how it's catchy music you can relate to, which is a nice contrast to punk, the music you punch someone in the back of the head to. The two blend all the time, of course.
However, one of the more disturbing things I've noticed in the teen-emo fad at the moment is that some truly believe in emo as a way of life. For those of you unfamiliar with emo, this means adopting a mindset as such: "I'm going to be bitter at everyone and everything. The opposite sex exists for the sole purpose of recipient of my scorn. I just want to be alone.. with as many people as possible."
Are you serious.
Bitter does not equal sexy. Girls are attracted to Chris Carrabba because he's attractive.
Before you reply to this post with the obligatory flames and blames, read the first sentence of the first paragraph. The music and the community are great, I just think there's better philosophies one can take to mind. "Emo kid" should mean someone who listens to emo, not someone who only stops crying to start screaming.
Everywhere I am I think you are
I don't quite know what it is I feel anymore. Have you ever had a week where your whole world seems to have turned upside down?
I have never had such a strikingly awkward, and yet amazing feeling. I've always wondered if one day I would just think differently.
To explain better...
Sometimes I think, "I will do X everyday from now on."
But I don't. I always sort of attributed it to the fact that I am who I am, and there are just things you can't change.
Well I am dumbfounded by how I feel. I feel completely different.
Something had to be the catalyst, and I keep thinking I will wake up, and go back to the way I was.
But everyday I seem to have a new sense of urgency that before would have baffled me.
I still feel like a thousand emotions are hitting me at once, but they all seem to sort out as if strained like pasta.
They all seem to leave a sense of calm. Of understanding that things will be okay.
Something I haven't had in the past.
Regardless of how much you think someone has changed, they always remind you how much they are the same the way they lie right in your face
I've sat here for half an hour trying to write out what happened in some eloquent manner that would make you laugh, but you know what. Fuck it, I'm not the funny one so I'll be blunt.
It sucks when your relationship falls through just at the point where you started to think "Ok things have been going on for a while, I can start putting some faith into the relationship" just goes to show what your brain knows.
From now on whenever my brain tells me to do something I'm going to tell it to cram it up it's raunchy beefhole.
Occasionally the world seems clear. Everything falls into it's own little niche. Life makes sense in ways that you couldn't have really fathomed.
Attempting to convey, all these words we'd never say, but meant.
It's always sad losing an experience we may never feel again. Seems so final. So strange.
We cling to our past, and know that no matter how much time's past it will never be quite like it once was. Never smell quite like it once did. And Never feel quite like we once were.
Doesn't mean we would rather be there, than here. The loss of anything feels like a loss. Doesn't matter if the gains far surpass it.
When the time is right, you deal with these things, cite them, write them, relax in the notions that swirl around. You can not rekindle what you left, it will never be the same, never feel the same, never taste the same.
You are moving on, and that is okay.
Our own fear of death, and finality takes a role in our fears towards the end.
They are irrational, and even that is okay.
Do not try and force the feelings you want to hide away. Take the plaster off quickly, for while it may sting, it won't sting as long.
And you can do other things while still numb, grow into new ideas and concepts, and learn what it means to cherish WHO a person is, and not be dependant.
Once upon a time, I saw a boy. Now all I see are jumbled pictures of that first night.
The only thing I choose to remember in a world of forgotten dreams.
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