Feb. 06, 2004 @ 10:56 p.m.

The cavity in my tooth even has it’s own theme song. Mirror images record times in my life like a broken record, broken with love from the anti-perfectionist side of my least boring relationship ever. Harmony and melody aren’t just girl’s names, they were originally a piece of music. Composed of making memories seem more remotely real, more like they really happened, more like a true-to-life recollection of the past strictly based on the musical notes that played in my head at the time of said incident. My heart pounds to the beat of a different drum, the sounds of stretched skin ringing my head, fingers slicing away at metal guitar strings while my feet crunch the snow in a bitter, sweet symphony. The words, “What would you do without music?” came up recently in conversation with someone whom I respect, someone who knows me well, someone who knows that without hearing, music and the mp3 file format, I would completely be someone else. So I told them what they were asking to hear, “I wouldn’t be able to be me.” Now this text is being printed among other small, possibly more or less meaningless text’s where people can read it, laughing, sobbing or grinning, pointing or cheering while saying, “Wow, look at that emo/indie f*ck.” Get over it already. You like beer and big fake tits, sports and being a slob; I like music notes and stars, dressing well and wearing a smile on my face like a burning fashion trend that never caught on. Do you know the main difference between us? I’m in love with my life. We dance together like the sun is never going to be seen again, like blisters will heal, like sleep is something only the weak ones need. Jealous because I’m comfortable with who I am? Envious that I don’t need your standards to apply to my life in order to measure my success based on them? You may not know, but I sure do. Then I looked into the eyes from which such questions came, from which the fuel was thrown onto my fire, “But you said you wanted to avoid talking about religion.”