Monday, May 19, 2008

I am EMO


I am Emo.

But what does that mean?

I was born with a chemical imbalance in my brain which causes me to get severely depressed. Occasionally it also allows me to feel joy, but I fear it only does this because to know the true pain of depression, you must have felt happiness to compare it with.

I have also been given anxiety and confusing thought patterns which other people cannot understand, though they make perfect sense to me.

While I would not wish these things upon anyone else, I do not think they are necessarily bad things. They allow us to see the world for what it is, to see past the sugar coating the governments and media give everything bad. If you are forever happy, you don't see the evil in the world because you do not believe that it is there. But if you already see the badness within yourself, it is easy to realise how brainwashed the rest of the population is with the happy lies of those higher up.

There was not a point in my life which caused me to be the way I am. I was born with a genetic tendency to depressive and addictive behaviours. Though to blame my genes would be a cop out.I am the way I am, because I didn't realise that the way I am was wrong until it was too late.


I am Emo.

Though the meaning of those words has been lost in the multitude of people claiming the title as their own.

I have the slow-fading patterns crisscrossing my arm which are the tell tale sign of an 'Emo'. For me, they are simply remnants of a past I wish I could truthfully deny.

But don't think that I regret it. I don't. Not for a second. Yes I have scarred myself. But it didn't kill me, and so has made me stronger. It has given me the power to be able to help others from making my own mistakes. And, every scar I inflicted upon myself, is a scar I did not inflict upon another.

It was a necessary evil.


I am Emo.

Except that I'm not. I come from a time before Emo was anything but a not yet known music genre, emotive rock. I am from even before Angsty was the teenage diagnosis of choice. My friends knew I wasn't normal, but what is normal anyway. These days you could say that a large proportion of the teenage population is like me, and so I could be called normal. But then, I was different. There weren't others like me.

So I have lived through the plummeting rollercoaster of life, watching as more and more people hopped on the ride. Listening to their screams as they experienced something new.

I was riding no hands by then. Thinking, just maybe, that I might fall out and hit the ground with a splat.



They call me Emo...

Because they have no other explanation for me.

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