you know, i think i am done secretly idolizing people.
because i am rejected, day in and day out. and i am not one to take it lightly, and i am not one to stick around. i like to destroy what picks at me.
this ties in with i hate the internet. and malls, too. don't forget labels, because i cannot live up to any of them. i listen to punk rock allll dayy long, and i can remember the day i found punk rock. it was an enlightenment. good music was telling me exactly how i felt, and i grew up around a bunch of metal kids. no one fucking showed me punk rock. its silly and it doesnt seem logical, but it was different from all the scenes i dealt with. and its funny, because i was and am what punk rock emphatically is. i am so relaxed though, in the way i dress. it gets to me, that i am overlooked because of it.
it is also a part of my perfectionism/insecurity complex, and so i am working on all this. but after ... eight years of dying my hair and living the fast life, i get in the "fuck roots and straw feeling hair" and i dont give a fuck about make up and skirts and boots/heels make me uncomfortable and i like my shirts size S in mens and im going to sell all my studded belts. my philosophy differs from the commercial, vain, do-only-what-the-punk-kids-say-is-alright philosophy. le sigh.
i am tired of trying to make friends who seem to be a lot like me, the punk scene, and i am tired of school work.
so i am going at it alone. too bad for you and you and you. good for me. because i like to crawl, and the internet makes me feel surreal, which isn't healthy.
also, i have decided that the only thing more sure than death and taxes is that internet blogs will always make u sound like an idiot.
and im out.
because i am rejected, day in and day out. and i am not one to take it lightly, and i am not one to stick around. i like to destroy what picks at me.
this ties in with i hate the internet. and malls, too. don't forget labels, because i cannot live up to any of them. i listen to punk rock allll dayy long, and i can remember the day i found punk rock. it was an enlightenment. good music was telling me exactly how i felt, and i grew up around a bunch of metal kids. no one fucking showed me punk rock. its silly and it doesnt seem logical, but it was different from all the scenes i dealt with. and its funny, because i was and am what punk rock emphatically is. i am so relaxed though, in the way i dress. it gets to me, that i am overlooked because of it.
it is also a part of my perfectionism/insecurity complex, and so i am working on all this. but after ... eight years of dying my hair and living the fast life, i get in the "fuck roots and straw feeling hair" and i dont give a fuck about make up and skirts and boots/heels make me uncomfortable and i like my shirts size S in mens and im going to sell all my studded belts. my philosophy differs from the commercial, vain, do-only-what-the-punk-kids-say-is-alright philosophy. le sigh.
i am tired of trying to make friends who seem to be a lot like me, the punk scene, and i am tired of school work.
so i am going at it alone. too bad for you and you and you. good for me. because i like to crawl, and the internet makes me feel surreal, which isn't healthy.
also, i have decided that the only thing more sure than death and taxes is that internet blogs will always make u sound like an idiot.
and im out.
thor76:
too bad for me
![mad](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/mad.73f291fbf3b2.gif)
![skull](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/skull.4242d54c7e24.gif)