AHHH, the emoness of my soul prevails over the soulity of my emoness, as I haven't written in 18 days. Oh, how emo a number 18 is. Oh, how emo that sentence structure was. Oh, how emo canadian history is. Actually, that last one is pretty true. See last entry. That being said, my emo hair is quite emo this fine, rainy, DARK AND DEATH LIKE emo day. It is black. And greasy. And swirling around my head like a mop, as I tilt my head at impossible angles, all for the sake of a picture to put on myspace, with terrible lighting, weird captions and my eyes looking so very very emoliciously sad. my space is actually for peo ple with space in thei r heads so that they can be Em 00000. and sad like the black ness of my he-art backslash.