Emo

Everybody thinks I'm emo. My brother thinks I'm emo because I stay in my room all day. Either in my room, or the cave, or in front of this computer. My friend thinks I'm emo because I spilled red gatorade on my wrists once. My other friend thinks I'm emo because I act disturbed, and because of this blog. Apparently this blog is very emo. Which technically means its readers are also emo. Now doesn't that make you feel special. You are officially emo. Wait, no! What are you doing with that knife? I didn't ask you to slit your wrists! Emo people only do that when they are extremely depressed. And are you extremely depressed? I think not. That's right, put the knife down. Now hand it over. Sweet something to slit my wrists with. No I'm just kidding. I'm not depressed either. I never havebeen enough depressed to slit my wrists.......yet.