Description: i used a panic at the disco line. and am begining to write my blog entries down as writing pieces, as if that wasnt pretencious enough ive gone and asked you people for reviews. please review.
Fainting spells and what not has got me ready to introduce a whole new generation of scene kids wearing t-shirts saying in awkward colors "The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is the press coverage". Which is catchy enough. I have my english exam tommorow and keep convincing my parents that im studying. Im actually not am i? I like to say that i did but i never really do. Theres always an image inside my head of some sort of line between this and the next part of my life that should technically be shitloads better. I like to see myself crossing that line repeatedley for temporary relief. i doubt any of you delightful idiots know what i just talked about.
I still sitt at school not knowing why im even there. I'll walk down my sidewalk whistling (i cant whistle) and singing my lungs out just stopping to catch my breath when the brown haired kid walks by me. I can make my walk home slow knowing that its probably the best part of my day, since im not in school and im not at home either. I can learn to love my voice more if i keep on singing, i can learn to enjoy watching the fog come out my mouth if i keep pausing in the middle of the pretencious song i just learned the lyrics to. A lack of comments even though i know all of you people are reading my blogs like theres no tommorow (shoot me). It becomes easy to see that i should be spending more time making myself a more approachable person and learning to comment people in a nice way.
With headfones in my ears i sat in bed today feeling like writing. I sat on a bus last friday ready to string together whatever rush of thoughts i had felt in the moment where the bus kept moving. But i didnt have paper or a pencil, so i kept muttering to myself that i'll write a letter to someone in another country so they can tell me if its better off than calgary. Im probably letting all of you down, scrambling around turning you into "comment groupies" who just get by reading whatever i write.
In sheer delight im writing all this down to feel like i might have done something worthwhile today hopeing dearly that this hour's greatness will multiply. So here it was. my entry to spice up your day. To tell me to start relying on better things in life. I create shit. I create manic tendencies, cocky blog entries, anxiety, and paranoia. Wouldnt we all love to travel the c-train at twilight past our previous lovers house hopeing somehow that in the end were all heading towards one big countdown.
you sound so much like me that im annoyed because my friends say im crazy and every damn person i know says im different but i read peoples stuff sometimes and im like "what the eff" because its me.. just me.. but i guess the different comes in when im like 50 different people at once. like here im you but later ill be pink floyd. or something like that. cept i dont like panic. not one bit. and not only dont i like the music but im annoyed by the name. they dont do disco music...what the eff. cant they call it Panic! at the emo concert or would no one listen to something that obvious? anyhow...nice writin. sounds like my journal kinda cept not so....schizo i guess is what im going for..it only sounds like part of me.
Told you I would comment on your stuff...although that's like taking the bait, really. I liked this. It was like an evolved, sophisticated teen novel...but with better word choice and taste. Kudos~ -Mel