My birthday today. Disappointed. No one at school remembered even though I mentioned it so many times. The only people that remembered were the people that I didn’t even tell – my good friends at my old highschool. Talk about depressing. I’ll move on, but I don’t know if I’ll live. That makes only little sense to me.
Anyway, I’m sure some of the readers of this blog know that I’m quite frankly emo. None of that “I’m so emotional, it hurts” nonsense, but the fact that my life – the part that I don’t reveal – sucks to the extreme. I enjoy depressing insightful things. As an example, take “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot . . . it’s so insightful!
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street
Rubbing its back upon the window panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time to for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea. (23-34)
Everyone, whether you admit it or not, acts different depending on the audience. We all wear masks to hide a small part of ourselves. The only problem is that while I wear different faces like the rest of you, all of mine are similar in the respect that the faces are all apathetic and supressed. I’m tired of pretending.
By the way, I put the layout up last night. Ehhh it’s okay, but rather plain and it was a pain to code because I wanted to do something I didn’t know how to do.