Reading: City of Bones - Cassandra Clare
I hate fashion.
Fashion is the bane of my existence. 80s fashion should have stayed in the past and I become almost uncontrollably enraged when I see places selling vintage t-shirts en masse. This completely nullifies the purpose and symbolism of the vintage t-shirt.
I am sick of fashion and trends bastardising everything I love.
And I'm sick of fucking teenies. The 90s generation should be wiped out in my humble opinion.
And so, I think I have chosen an adequate song for today's choice. I am aching for the day I am no longer classified in the same group as these invalids. Only 22 weeks to go.
This song is simple, but fantastic. Off the Black Parade, it's anthemic [hahaha I love how I make up words to sound smart] and FANTASTIC live. Everytime I hear it, it brings back memories of second semester last year and singing this in the elevators at uni with Jen. This is our singalong song - we sing it wherever we go, including non-MCR gigs.
Admittedly the video clip was slightly disappointing. And it's frustrating to see it on the music charts. There's something awesome about running around singing a song no one else knows. But this song will never lose it's awesomeness. It inspired my major work for narrative writing this semester.
It's one of the most simple songs the band has written; Gerard wrote it after being freaked out on the train and feeling out of touch with teens. I don't blame you, Gee.
I can't wait till the concerts so I can see this live again. There's something priceless about seeing Gee do the chicken dance during the chorus. Even better when he's wearing a hot pink feather boa.
They're gonna clean up your looks with all the lies in the books, to make a citizen out of you. Because they sleep with a gun and keep an eye on you, son so they can watch all the things you do. Because the drugs never work, they're gonna give you a smirk, 'cause they got methods of keeping you clean. They're gonna rip up your heads, your aspirations to shreds - another cog in the murder machine. They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me, they could care less as long as someone'll bleed. So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose, maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me! The boys and girls in the clique, the awful names that they stick - you're never gonna fit in much, kid. But if you're troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt will make them pay for the things that they did. They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me, they could care less as long as someone'll bleed. So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose, maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me!