OH DEAR! My angsty quasy-livejournaly-ness is unsurpassed! This is my third entry today! Now, onto my crazy emo-hotness. I am pouring tears of crimson regret as my heart bleeds out bruised words of wisdom and sadness and badly rhymed emo lyrics. Sorta like telephone and alone. Fucking Billy Talent... Now, for an angsty poem: My notebook Full of sad poetry And sorrow In my heart of blackness Despair is my god and I bow to it It floods my mind like So many tears of crimson regret My sadness is like a fountain It kills kittens And spreads their blood to the sinners OH MY. My evil cough has subsided and as a present to the vampire goddess of utmost emo-hotness, I will mosh to the wonderful and sorrowful strains of Billy Talent and of course, Midtown. My tears spill down my face and smear my overdone black make up and mascara. Oh no, I think I've stained my thick black-rimmed glasses. Time to go mousse my hair. Goodbye, oh emo partisans. Keep fighting for emo-hotness and crimson sorrow!