Imagine the life of an emo. It would be awesome. Not in the way you think. If you wanted to die, there would be no fear. If your life wasn't precious to you, you could do whatever you wanted with it. Example, when I was younger, grade school, I had to wait for my sister because Middle schoolers came later than elementary. It was a short time to wait, so we didn't go home. We waited in this park right by the school, where my sister would walk to get picked up so me and my brother had a place to play while we waited for her. Well, there was a big sycamore tree. I always climbed it. But I wanted to got to that branch were there was a great view and where the older kids always were. I thought it would be so cool if i could, but the curse of my weak knees, one glance down I would burst into tears. I also had the problem of getting stuck there. I would think about jumping down, but I was afraid i bruise my a** again. So one day, I thought...if it didn't matter to me if I lived or not, would I be able to do it? I really wanted to know. So I tested it, I was on one of my cranky days and I was all sad. So I crawled up the branch and made it there. Now I was so happy! So I looked down and wanted to get down, but i couldn't so I just jumped and i was sad again. I landed on and bruised my a**. For the second time. So, my study showed, that being emo has its benefits. I wish I had one of those benefits. Because I am one wimpy-a**.
L 0 S U R R · Tue Jun 03, 2008 @ 12:18am · 0 Comments |