Boring Internet [[www.boringinternet.co.uk]] The rest of the internet is a waste of time.

Diary of an Emo

"... you don't know grief ..."

Blog entry 4
Sadness level: Disturbingly gigantic
Total number of scars: 176 (the oldest are fading - LIKE ME)
Current thought: My Chemical Romance knows how I feel.

Once again, my lack of updates was caused by this very world! This cruel world is so evil, malign if you are one for clever-sounding words; but no clever words can fully explain the shoddy tapestry that is my soul. Perhaps some may attempt to fix the glaring wounds in the cloth, but the futile tries will leave it only further in disrepair, leaving me crying big round orbs of salty hurt.

A man, just the other day, informed me that perhaps I would listen to Fall Out Boy, and maybe 'click' with their lyrics. What a putrid suggestion! That I may listen to their foul attempts at turning thoughts into speech! They believe that they know what it's like to hurt, but they are certainly incorrect; their pool of unhappiness is just a shallow puddle compared to my own ocean!

I went home to self-harm, but found my father had removed my razors. Upon querying his cruel movement, he told me that I did not need them, said I don't grow facial hair and need not shave, said my sick blood was congealing in great clotted splotches on my carpet. He told me to utilise the carpet cleaner to clean it, said if I did not he would bash my head in with bricks. "Do it!" I screamed as I fled to the confines of my bedroom, crying profusely. "Put me out of my misery!"

No one understands me.

-Misunderstood
(MNA, October 22nd 2007)

Boring Internet makes extensive use of IFrames. If you are unable to view IFrames, please download <A HREF="http://www.mozilla-europe.org/en/firefox/" Target="_blank">Mozilla Firefox</A>; it's free, secure, and best of all: you can view Boring Internet.
	Diary of an Emo "... you don't know grief ..." Blog entry 4 Sadness level: Disturbingly gigantic Total number of scars: 176 (the oldest are fading - LIKE ME) Current thought: My Chemical Romance knows how I feel. Once again, my lack of updates was caused by this very world! This cruel world is so evil, malign if you are one for clever-sounding words; but no clever words can fully explain the shoddy tapestry that is my soul. Perhaps some may attempt to fix the glaring wounds in the cloth, but the futile tries will leave it only further in disrepair, leaving me crying big round orbs of salty hurt. A man, just the other day, informed me that perhaps I would listen to Fall Out Boy, and maybe 'click' with their lyrics. What a putrid suggestion! That I may listen to their foul attempts at turning thoughts into speech! They believe that they know what it's like to hurt, but they are certainly incorrect; their pool of unhappiness is just a shallow puddle compared to my own ocean! I went home to self-harm, but found my father had removed my razors. Upon querying his cruel movement, he told me that I did not need them, said I don't grow facial hair and need not shave, said my sick blood was congealing in great clotted splotches on my carpet. He told me to utilise the carpet cleaner to clean it, said if I did not he would bash my head in with bricks. "Do it!" I screamed as I fled to the confines of my bedroom, crying profusely. "Put me out of my misery!" No one understands me. -Misunderstood (MNA, October 22nd 2007)