All I want to do is curl up and die. I feel no conviction that I did the right thing, and there is no comfort in thinking that I did. I felt like I had come so far and instead, find myself right back where I was at the beginning of the summer! The same rebellion, wanting to be wild and crazy and do anything that I feel like...I've never been content for long to be quiet and colorlessly good. Will this emptiness ever go away or will it carry me down with it? I wish that I could take it all back and have things go on the way that they were! Why do I always act without thinking?!
"But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing."
The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still."
It's not the entire poem, but I can identify acutely with that little bird.
Ever since the first emotionally charged teen donned their sacred black, the world has whispered. After all, emos are all just living dead right? They dream about death, are fascinated with blood, and cutting is a way for the less courageous ones to recieve a taste of both worlds. Well, at least according to the, o so wise thought processes of the Russian government. Their solution? Ban all youth ages 13-17 (aproximately) who fit the criteria of emo from entering schools and public buildings. As the author of the article said, "Well, they obviously understand exactly what they're doing. What could possibly go wrong?"
I don't know about you, but I've always been fascinated by certain people's blogged ponderings. They are totally random and (irritatingly enough) rarely have ANYTHING to do with the title, yet I'm always impressedby ceratin writers' sarcastic wit. It seems like they can take an everyday topic and illuminate the irony behind the ordinary. I don't even pretend that my blogs live up to those paragons of perefection, but someday I hope to aquire the same skill.
While I may not be skilled in the finer points of dry humor, I am getting quite good at riding a bike with no hands. I'm nearly positive that I could make it all the way downtown without a tragic accident. I can even turn corners and switch roads with relative ease (though no lack of muscle soreness).
crushed
amused
focused