i am emo...

I am emo…
am Brent.

I am emo with a smile. Isn’t it funny why identified emos dress the way they dress, talk the way they talk; as if telling the world “hey I’m alone!” These people are not emos they are simply alone and are trying to tell the world they need affection. Emos are not them…

The truth is that; the world is flooded with many emos but they are not the ones that wear dark eyeliners, one sided bangs, or I love and long for death shirts. Emos don’t show to the world that they are emos, black is not their color, death is not their destination, seas of fear and oceans of misery is not their mantra. Emos, the genuine race of emos are the ones that in a crowd get noticed, in a group they seem happy, with friends they radiates joy but in the confinement of their hearts, are alone and bleeding. Emos has this innate ability to effectively hide the real feelings they have; emos are programmed to smile in the presence of other people and cry in the darkness of their rooms. Emos are trained to hang around with friends, know their lives, care and care too much that even beyond pain, there persists love. Emos want others happy, because it’s what they also desire; they don’t influence others to feel the pain. In the veins of an emo, there runs an innate pain killer, suppressing the pain, clogging the bleeds, hiding the tears and supporting the tired heart to beat
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We Emos love happiness, what makes us unique is that we genuinely share love and joy but we are selfish of pain and sorrow. This is our way of life, the real emo, makes no heart bleed, it’s better for us to bleed alone unless offered a hand. If there is none, the silence becomes our friend, the music our confidant, and the self… our only best friend.

I am Brent; am emo. Are you?