|
 I'm 15
years old.
I text-message.
I have a poster of My Chemical Romance on the back of
my bedroom door.
I shop at Hot Topic.
I have never heard of Hunter S. Thompson, but I think
the Steadman-esque cover of The Nervous Return cd is
pretty cool anyway.
I totally identify with the conflicting emotions in
"Dramahead":
It's such a thrill to be here/Got nothing better to
do
Improving every day/And suicidal
And everything is alright/And only moments from hell
I'm glad to just be alive/I want to die.
When my step-dad yells at me for failing math, I slam
my door and put this cd on and turn it up so I can't
hear him, so I can't hear anything except my own teen
angst. And I turn the volume up even higher when the
title track comes on and I shout the chorus ("One day
you'll wake up dead!") to the back of my closed
bedroom door. And then "So and so from such and such"
comes on and it reminds me of my workaholic absentee
father and that pisses me off even more, so that by
the time "Hate Song (For Animate Object)" comes on, I
have my sharpened nail file out of its special case,
and I'm pressing the tip into the skin of my inner
thigh, cutting into the flesh and watching as the thin
line of blood trickles onto my bedspread and I lay
back on my bed and whisper the words to
"Radiate"-"everyone afraid to die, scared to live,
blah blah blah...it's better not to think it too
much!". And then I text-message my best friend Amber
about the math homework.
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