The mind of an Emo Girl (in other words, what happens when I go emo)
Bwahahaha!
For your reading pleasure or displeasure.
WARNING: This is how EMO I can get. So this is not for the faint of heart hehehe.
This was one of my entries in my other blog from way back, I think sometime last year. I remember not publishing this because if I did, it would have probably found its way into someone's inbox. And that would've stirred shit and caused controversies...and I can't handle controversies because I am a coward. I don't do confrontations. It's just not my style. But since this stuff is stale already anyway, you know, stale as in EXPIRED, I figured I'd share a piece of my not-so-normal self (or for some, this may, for all intents and purposes, be normal after all). Disclaimer: This was not meant to be a creative literary piece so don't go literary critic on me ok? These were random thoughts that were going on in my mind at the time. So screw those things you call literary elements, techniques, and devices. You won't find them here. Or maybe you probably will...but I doubt if they were used properly...So without further ado....Drumroll....I present to you, the mind of an emo girl:
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Today I was listening to this song Wild Horses by The Sundays. Actually, it wasn't really their song as in their song. It was a cover of the Rolling Stones' original version. One phrase in the song struck a chord, so to speak...and it goes something like this:
I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you decided to show me the same
No sweeping exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
I wish I could feel the same way and say the exact same thing to him. However, I can't. Because I feel the exact opposite. I AM BITTER actually. Bitter bitter bitter. This is not a realization. Nor is it a maladroit attempt at self-psychoanalysis. It is a glaring fact. And it's on the verge of corroding my psyche...just like how rust corrodes metal. There. I'm writing all this down in a painful attempt to exorcise these bitter emotions that are in me, waiting to explode. Why can't I just accept things and wish him happiness? I was the first one to move on...or so I thought. But I didn't actually want to move on. I was just trying to see how he'd react. (Yeah I know...that was a stupid thing to do. And I paid) "Why couldn't you wait for me? " He asked me. "Why didn't you wait for me?" I asked him back. Who should've waited for who. It was a vicious cycle. And it was waiting to be broken. And I broke it. But I didn't know I was going to break it for good.
I begin to rationalize....and in the process, come up with a shameless justification for the way things were handled....a convenient excuse for our mutual fear of commitment: Blame TIME. How? By drawing the conclusion that it was one of our greatest enemies. Time has always been against us. Blah blah blah....Blah blah blah...It was like we were never on the same platform or on the same sphere. When he was there, I was here. We were never both here nor there at the same time. So yeah, our timing was definitely off. Time ruined things for us.
Looking back, had we both known that all along we were just waiting for each other, things would have been a whole lot different. Though I can't really say that for sure. Maybe. Maybe not. I guess this world is full of endless possibilities. We can't really know for sure what's going to happen or what could have happened until we've experienced at least one of those so-called endless possibilities. Whatever that means. Crap, I'm rambling now and I feel like I am starting to sound incoherent.
I guess the best thing to do is to just let things be. Who knows. Maybe he is actually happy right now. Maybe I am too. Maybe we just can't be happy together.