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 Depression Eye of Depression. You are depressed. You feel as though you cannot carry on in this world. You have lost all hope. Your friends try to help, but cannot. Color:Black Object: Thorn View of Life: Hate it What Eyes Of Pain Are You?+Pics And Detailed Results+ brought to you by Quizilla I rock! 
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What happened to Crying Girl's emo blog? I can't believe she would stop being into emo. I'm way emo. |
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Did anyone ever here that song? Rock the Casbah!! Rock the Casbah!! I love that! I am so retarded!! |
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I always forget the February is ghost season. The time when all the seeds longlosts have planted start to sprout. My crop of perenniels. I don't know why the ghost crop comes in February, but it is true every year. Every February my cycle of dreams plays host to ghosts. Especially his ghost. My Banquo. To mix metaphors. Banquo often covers me in scorn. But last night, he was sweet. In my dream. My reaction to ghost season? Hay fever. I try to blow them away. I sneeze. But that just disperses more seeds. You haunt me, you flower, but you never come back to me. |
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When a girl doesn't have a father figure, she fantasizes about various substitues. Some of the men I fixated on as a child were: the original male cast of Saturday Night Live Steve Martin--funky Tut Chevy Chase--daddy Griswold John Belushi--Samurai Papa? Bill Murray--wry, sweet, could dispatch scary ghosts I am still in love with Bill Murray. He should have fucked Scarlett Johansen in the "Lost in Translation" movie. Every girl with a daddy fixation (you hear me, Sofia? You know you have one, too!) needed to see that happen. What a tease. I would've stalked John Belushi, but he died. Burt Reynolds. So virile. Bill Cosby. So rich and tender. Kenny Rogers--burly and bearded, and he could sing me to sleep The Fonz...because he was so nice to "Cupcake" Now I am attracted to anyone who reminds me of Henry Winkler. |
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"when you are unhappy in love you forget to turn the oven on." -some old french fart in "Sabrina" Forget about turning the oven on. My pilot's not even lit. That's the problem with these gas models. Anybody got a match? If only I were electric. I used to be an Easybake--all I needed was a lightbulb and I'd be cookin'. No lightbulbs pop over my head. The thought balloon sags empty. I can't incandesce. |
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In a pivotal moment in"My Dinner with Andre", Wallace Shawn defined happiness as "waking up and finding that the cold cup of coffee you left out the night before doesn't have a roach in it, so you sit down and you drink the sludge". Wallace Shawn may be even more depressed than I am. This morning the smell of whiskey and coke pervaded my bedroom. I poured myself a stiff one last night, but couldn't bring myself to drink it. I was too depressed to get drunk. Maybe it will be waiting for me when I get home, flat, syrupy, and if I am really lucky, a fly or two may have struggled, given up the ghost and and be floating, an image of my despair, on the sticky surface. If that is the case, I will drink it. |
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There's something about putting on a fresh pair of panties that just turns everything around. Nice and toasty. |
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 I missed every bus and hit every stoplight today. I walked all the way home in thin soled shoes. My reflection in the piss puddles looked haggard. I drank too much water and peed my pants a little before I made it home. I had the wrong keys. It reminded me of the time I lost control at Disneyland, just outside Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I can never find a bathroom when I need it. Why did I ever get toilet trained in the first place? What a fucking waste of time. |
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Some bitches better tell me what's going on around here! And by "bitches", I mean my mom. |
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Can you feel my emo?? I knew you could! LOL!!!!
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I hooked up a new template. Sweeet!!!!! |
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I picked the "Bliss" template because that's how I feel. Good and high. Cincinnati Steamer tonight! 
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