I was sitting alone in the park last night, like I always do, and I was thinking. Yes, thinking.

I was thinking about what a waste life is. People spend so much time trying to please others, trying to be successful, trying so hard. And for what? Just to kill over at 65 due to a heart attack because they're so stressed out about life. It's totally pointless.

What the hell are people working towards? It's not like if you do good in life, you're rewarded by gaining immortality. No matter what you do with your life, you're going to end up like everyone else.

So I say, what the hell are we waiting for? Why try to avoid the inevitable (said that good man Steven)? Whether I die now, or in 80 years, means nothing because I will end up six feet under no matter what.

I was also thinking about society. I was thinking about how the population consumes and consumes, keeping the economy going.

Well, I emo. I won't conform to society and be a mindless consumer. Therefore, I am a drain on the economy. I'm like the homeless, only dressed a lot worse.

So with those two things in mind (life is pointless and I'm not needed by society), I made a bold decision.

SUICIDE

Not very original? I don't care. I wont be around to hear your fucking criticisms.

Besides. What the hell do I have to live for? My pet Zebra Hercules is dead. He was the only one who understood me. Plus, no one loves me. I hate this world.

As I prepare a noose for which to hang myself, I promise you this.

I WILL HAUNT YOU ALL FOR THE REMAINDER OF YOUR PITIFUL LIVES!

emo.

Hanging By A Thread

Just one moment
a split second of time
your eyes meet mine
and my heart melts
I am putty in the palm of your hands
I cant help but smile
My heart beats so hard
I think that my chest will explode
my hands shake
and my knees go weak
And I think that you can tell
that these things are going on
because you smile too
but keep on walking
And I am hanging by a thread
all in just one moment in time
and all in one moment
I fall in love with you again. 

i apologize for the lack of entries. i've been living in the depths of my wine cellar for the past 3 months surviving off of bugs, human hair, and the occasional square rice treats that my obnoxious mother brought down everyone couple of days. why was i doing this, you ask?

TO PROTEST, OF COURSE! what was i protesting?

SOCIETY, OF COURSE! I'M EMO!

anyways, while i was siitting the damp corners of the wine cellar, sitting in the fetal position and driving myself mad with my own sick thoughts, i wrote a poem.

"Alone"

Sometimes, when I'm alone,
I think about Ketchup,
Because I know that the truth is that
Its just sitting there in a bottle, by itself.
I'm pretty sure it's red.
Sometimes when I'm with Ketchup,
I think about being alone,
In a bottle.
Standing next to the mustard all day.

-emo.

                           i told myself that it wouldn't bleed.

                            i told myself that it wouldn't hurt.

                  i told myself that it would make me feel better.

                                          i was wrong.

emo.