Amanda is back and thank god, now I have someone to talk to and I can finally type on my computer again. I still don't have a converter. But what, you ask, was bound to happen?
It's a vicious cycle, I keep rediscovering emo things. No matter what I do, I accidentally turn on The Spill Canvas or I listen to Jesus of Suburbia one too many times and suddenly I'm all dressed in black and looking sad again. It's not a good look for me, this I know, but I'm at a picnic table right now, listening to The Tide and being melancholy. MELANCHOLY, this is never a good thing. Remind me that this is horrible. Remind me that black is not my color. Tell me about the sunshine again. "I'm the son of rage and love. The Jesus of Suburbia, from the bible of none of the above, on a steady diet of soda pop and ritalin..."
I'm not playing around here. I'm emo again. Make it stop.
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3 comments:
Think of "Wooop" and Eike Kusch and Liam Pag Buttsman. And how you can fart in front of JAmes and he has no idea. And the picture of you stealing cookie dough from my fridge. And that one time you said your eye itched but you scratched your nose instead. And having meat in our pants, and when we have a lack of it Jackie gets worried. And the Whale with a card in its mouth that says "Iffy." And carpetdance. And when Debo tells us she's cutting the cheese.
That's all for now. I love my Monad.
Emos don't exist in Germany. And you're in Germany. So get over it.
Love and unicorns,
Your fellow Austauschstudentin
Hahahaha, oh man. I remember that picture of me stealing cookie dough from your fridge. I wish I was around to steal it, still.
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