emoogle
"as the spacebag was passed to me i couldnt help but notice how light it felt. i held it up the the fire. my fears were confirmed. not a drop left. i tried to blow air in to the fortified tomb, but to no avail. it must remain empty. like my minial existance. i tear open the top in a fit. "i must fill it!" i sob to myself. but all i have is the grey ballest i rest on. so i pile it in each rock a cry for substance and meaning. i fill the bag and tie it to my pack. whats the diffrence i already have the weight of the world bearing down on me. while the others sit around the fire laughing and telling their trivial lies i grab my gear and run for the train pulling on the third track. i dont know where its headed but anywhere is better than here....
emo + oogle= emoogle"
emo + oogle= emoogle"
Seeing Tate curl up with an empty bottle of carlo rossi, next to the dumpster, with salt crusted in the corners of his eyes after crying for hours while listening to jawbreaker on his ipod sure made him look like an emoogle.