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QWERTYUIOPASDFGHJKLZXCVBNM

Pronounce that.

Created on 2005-08-22 16:06:36 (#8090785), last updated 2007-07-04

11 comments received, 262 comments posted

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Bio
You're more punk, hardcore, mod, straightedge, emo, indie than me. Your hair is cooler, your pants are tighter, you have more tattoos. Your wrists have more bracelets, your studded belts are shinier. You have cooler pins on your messenger bag and your favorite band is more obscure than mine. Your glasses are thicker and blacker than mine, the plugs in your ears are bigger, you know more people in bands. Your eyeliner is darker and your mascera is thicker. Your cuts are deeper and your scars are more prominant. You're more fucked in the head, you cry more, and the lead singers in your favorite bands scream louder. Because, as we all know, that's what really matters. In a world where the music has taken a backseat to the haircuts, and the scene has conquered us all, you win and I lose.







There's a time to flee and there's a time to fight.
Anything can be a weapon if you're holding it right.





Me: I don't kill people. Perhaps it's just another inhibition to do away with. Perhaps not. THere's really no way of telling. It's possible I've just never been able to well up so much interest in any person to end their life. I'd much rather just avoid them altogether. Most of them. It's 4am and the sky is beautiful , up and away from this room, this bed, and the oppresive inevitability of sleep. I hate sleep. But sleep always comes (that or madness). Fighting off a heavy eyelid can get lonely but spending time this way does allow you some insight on certain things, though perhaps trivial, as most things tend to be. You begin to get vey familiar with an unarained sadness, and those nasty, all consuming, mortal contemplations. And you begin to resent those who turn them into laughable theatrics, and twist it into yet another fashion. It's not all skull-buckle boots, or white make-up on bad skin. It all loses its significance once you cheapen it by making into a style thing. But with all these irritations present, I still maintain my stupendously sunny disposition. Having predominantly unpleasent thoughts is just another things to accept as normality, and eventually becomes part of the blood that fules you. It's all very amusing, but, in no way does it render you vulnerable to the effects of a bad day. But I've managed this nicely. I mean, I still haven't killed anyone...


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