OH MY GOD, IS SUMMER EVER EMO! Wow. The emolicious sadness of my emo heartness bleeds, as my sadness melts and is replaced by melancholy suffering of the worst kind. I mosh slowly and rythmically, my greasy black, choppy hair bobbing in time to the Billy Talent emanating from my CD player, which is painted black. I wish I was as emo as the emo goddess of yore, Amy Lee. Then I could sing my misery, instead of pouring them out into my LJ, or into a journal with a mottled black and white cover, and tear stained, unreadable pages, because of my emo sadness! Emo SADNESS of the sum mer tries to MELT*!)*95*(!( my jet black ####*@) (lesser than sign)3 *%(*!%(! but it fails like a kit t en on a tightrope, crying black tears. and semicolons. ;