Diary of an Emo
Monday: No milk for my cereal ... there's no God! I went immediately on MySpace and wrote a poem about it so my 23,000 friends could share. The first line was, "No milk, no God, no hope - I am special." Then I cried a bit and had some toast instead.

Monday PM: Some guys at school laughed at me because I had some traces of eye-liner from the weekend. I quoted My Chemical Romance as they kicked me to the floor and thus secured the moral high ground. They wil not crush my spirit.

Tuesday: I have adopted a new look. My asymmetrical haircut is now beautifully set off with a red scarf and a black and white striped jumper. I bought a Corpse Bride bag from the hippy shop in town and ripped off the toes of my All Stars to appear more bohemian. Wait til they see me!

Tuesday PM: EVERYBODY is wearing the same outfit! I went to the toilets and stabbed myself a few times with my compass. Nobody noticed, so I moaned and cried a bit louder until someone banged on the door and asked if was OK. Then I felt better.

Wednesday: My parents don't understand me. I told them that death is my friend. I'm not afraid of the End - no, I welcome it with open arms; I embrace it with cold and bloodless arms. "But I only asked you if you wanted a pocket-money increase!" yelled my mom. She doesn't understand.

Wednesday: I got the increase and spent £50 on a signed photo of Richey Manic. I have framed it and put candles either side. He is my muse. He knew how to live life to the full ... by dying, obviously. I have decided to become a vegetarian and only buy Fair Trade products.

Wednesday PM: Got some great bargains at Tesco. Black t-shirts for just £3! When I got home, Dad made me suicidal by laughing at my Richey Manic shrine. He said, "Who's that poof in make-up, then?" I told him that I'm a 'poof' and that, like Richey, I am going to die young and tragically. "Well, clean your room first," he said. He doesn't understand.

EDIT: corrected on the advice of Prof. Apeloverage.
(frankspencer, Mon 5 Feb 2007, 9:40, Reply)