Emo Angel

Entry 9 - the change

Emo Angel... Save Me

Entry 8

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5th March 2016

So it's been a while, two years to be exact.

We moved to a new town when my brother went off to some fancy university to drink away his life. You think I say that as in just teenager banter, but it's not. It's serious. He loves the alcohol pulsing through his veins, he loves feeling reckless as he dances under the night light.

I guess he suffered a lot, no one knew of course, but he was hurting more than I was. I guess this is where I tell you I cleaned up my act, I wore brighter clothes and smiled at the old couple who walked past the bus stop every morning. Like hell I did. If anything it made me realise how selfish I was to not notice how he was hurting so much.

It was all because of his girlfriend at the time, she was obsessive and controlling, sometimes violent. I thought the marks on his back were hickeys, but in actual fact they were bruises. 

Guess I should tell you about me. I'm in college, seriously considering dropping out though. Like this shit is boring, I'll probably end up working in Asda for the rest of my life anyway, who needs qualifications. I told my brother about dropping out and he said it would be a waste of talent to do so. 

After this journal shit failed to work my therapist told me to try out drawing and painting. I mean I did try it and it grew on me a little. My works nothing huge, it's just splatters of paint here and there. The occasional drawing or 3D model. 

I started to listen to softer music also. My so called 'emo'  identity had occurred through name calling. I guess I'd come accustomed to being called and emo, I just wore the label on my forehead like a trophy. It kind of made me feel like I had somewhere to belong. 

So I dropped the hardcore rock, no more Metallica or Guns 'n' Roses. Just Blackbear and Jaymes Young. Their chilled out indie vibe really does soothe the heart and mind. I've kept to my signature black ripped jeans and worn black high-tops, I've started wearing lighter t-shirts, some checkered button-up ones. I still wear the same old beanie too, my hair is too crazy to be let lose.

Apart from that, I've pretty much kept to myself. I hang around with a few friends and I still have bad days, just not as bad as they used to be. My parents still don't know the shit I was going through, my brother doesn't know either.

I'll probably write soon, or not. 

Bye losers.