Emo Diary Part 'Ono'

"Punk Rock Princess" by Something Corporate

Maybe when the room is empty,
Maybe when the bottle's full.
Maybe when the door gets broke down,
Love can break in.Maybe when I'm done with thinking,
Maybe you can think me whole.
Maybe when I'm done with endings
This can begin, this can begin
This can begin.If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You can tell me why you just dont fit in
And how you're gonna be something
Maybe when your hair gets darker,
Maybe when your eyes get wide,
Maybe when the walls are smaller
There will be more space
Maybe when I'm not so tired,
Maybe you could step inside
Maybe when I look for things that I cant replace, I cant replace
I cant replace.If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just dont fit in,
And how you're gonna be something.

Where's that studded belt? That jet black chopped crop of hair? That unique dressing to reflect her different shades of moods. Is it superficial or is it a declaration of preference for all things veering wayward from mainstream trends and styles?

Porcelin dolls are fragile and vulnerable. Make-up break up under the blazing sun. Mascara is cute especially with a tinge of salty tear drops to bring a trail of dull black down that face of forbidden beauty. So smash that porcelin and bring them to the grinder for a proper mashing. All they need is to break away from their cold hard exteriors. And shield themselves with all-weather coats of black.

Burn away their music cds of commercial worshipping. Crooners and simple lyrics surfing the frequency waves and engage themselves onto the ears of radio audience. Preached and influenced to commercial slavery. Originality fades away in the hustle. Jump start that dying beat of creativity. Put on your riot gear and start the moshing. All we need is an invigorating wave of support to lap upon us.

Dressed in black to hint her overcast moods. Her copper tone tan radiates aura nonetheless. She shines from within. She shines amidst the crowd. But nobody notices her. They are blinded by commercial influences. She treads through the unaware crowd unnoticed. Almost. There were some who took a second glimpse but look away after confirming what they have seen.

Her studded belt brought upon faces of disgust to passing-by "aunties". Her polished black nails brought horror upon the faces of innocent young kids. Her jagged hair and floppy fringe that strays across her face put guys off. Her vintage shoes became the talk in school, especially amongst girls who compared their latest posessions of trendy high-heels. But in the eyes of some, she is the princess. The divined. So are you blinded or am i a fool?

I yearn to be a garage band king. Lest the trucker cap and poser band tees, wrist bands, black rings.

--end of part I--