Emo Diary Part 'Deux"

"Audrey, Start The Revolution!" by Anberlin

Maybe tonight we'll get back together
sound the alarms and break all the levers
These streets are ours
Our anthem rings
You'd know the truth if these walls could sing
Amateur youth sling down the signs
Gather the masses, friends of mine
I've got your back if you've got my hand
This isn't over it just began
If this isn't love (This isn't love)
this is the closest I've ever been
Do you think we have a chance tonight?
as streetlights sing on Audrey's song [x2]
Remind your parents we're tomorrow
Lead with morals and we'll follow
When they wake up they'll seethat youth fades
and glory days deceive
What are you waiting for?
let's move on thistime is of essence, like your kiss
So say you're in with cards downand guns drawn, this is it
If this isn't love (This isn't love)
this is the closest I've ever been
Do you think we have a chance tonight as streetlights sing on Audrey's song [x2]
And now it all stops at this
We could take it all if only we would risk
You can be what can conceive
Red letters kill your disbelief
We all make mistakes sometimes
We all fail but we stand tonightLook past, learn, and move on
We're all here, you're not the only one
If this isn't love (This isn't love)this is the closest I've ever been
Do you think we have a chance tonight?
as streetlights sing on Audrey's song [x4]

Its been almost a week or two and I'm still slipping in and out of emo limbo. It all started like a trigger. A gunshot chance at luck. To challenge it to be precise since I'm never lucky with females. It felt like a step out of eternity. A standstill shattered and fragments of time free to flow again.

Are we capable of teaching ourselves to convict our attention and energy in pursuing a goal that is frequently given up upon? To convince ourselves to muster all that courage for making a sheer offer that seemed so effortless when written out in script. But it wasnt scripted for those army of words to commit kamikaze right at the frontline. Perhaps it was the enemy of thoughts. But definitely those eyes.

Script goes something like "Hi, Would you like to go out with me (but in actual it was pronouced in stutters like m....mmm....me)?"

That visual artistry embodies the essence of her energy and charisma as the lights dimmed out beneath my closed eyes. If i can only house a work of art in my mental gallery it will be a life size portrait of my punk rock princess in her gothic armour. Freeze that frame in my mind and lace the edges with pink-dyed ice-frosties. I need a strong chiller to contain all that thoughts and emotions she harbours at that moment. All that life force in a split second dissolved into a frame of pristine eternity.

And I've lost all my strength. Convictions turned illusions. Like butterflies, they flutter away into nothingness. And as i pen down these silly thoughts, my fate is sealed and im slumped back to a standstill.

--End of Emo Diaries--

I'm so bored I fabricated a cocktail of "emo diaries" for all you love-suckers out there. This one is from me to you...with my utmost sincerity and gratitude for inspiring me to come up with such a masterpiece.

And now as i cradle my ass in my wooden creaky rocking chair, I hope those publishers will come look for me to print my diaries. Yes....im so looking forward to "International best seller" and "A book worth reading over n over again with lotsa tears n snort" and a billion other spin-off comments of similar if not better reviews.

*ok i shall handcuff myself and dump myself back to the confines of my room.Snug in bed for an eternity to glimpse that imagery of missy mysterious Punk Rock Princess.