Rant your Heart out

[jezebel]

Ne, I'm feeling...self-analytical? Mm, I think that fits. I should probably get a blog one of these days, but hey, I like just saying shit with the high possibility someone I actually like'll read it. *nodnod*

So~ Imma do things a li'l differently though. All my music is on shuffle, and here I go~

Part of your World
Mmm, I guess I feel sort of reminiscent of this. Everyone knows that one person that they really wanna fit in with, right? Like, be a part of their life and be important. Most of the time, they barely know you exist of course. Naturally..it can make a gal feel pretty down. Meh, I'm self-appointedly betrothed anyway~

Tactics
Ahh~ All about seductive ladies and beautiful sex~ My kinda style. ;3 What I wouldn't give for a beautiful woman right now to snuggle with, maybe a good make-out session. ((Don't ask)) Women are as a rule so much more attractive, though. More curvy, soft, not to mention statistically have better hair. Haha, mine notwithstanding.

Coin Lockers Baby
Quite a disturbing song, really. All about the semi-popular underground culture in Japan for mothers to put their newborn babies in coin lockers. Pretty revolting. Oh yeah, they die. You know like, in Amusement Parks how there's those lockers where you put it like, fifty cents, the key slips out and you can store your bag or whatever? The mothers just throw the key out after putting the baby in a bag and stuffing him in there. These sort of situations make me pretty damn happy I'm alive.

I Wanna Hold your Hand
Ooh, this makes me think of a certain boy~ @_@ Bond Grey Becher is his name, and I'm convinced we're going to marry. Despite him being 21, emotionally unavailable, and knowing me since I was a bratty pre-teen, I do love him; as much as a sixteen year-old can love someone, that is. He's been studying in martial arts since he was 12 and is the most noble, respectable guy I know. He'd never even think about harming a lady, and he's helped me out of sticky perverted old men on buses and downtown situations before. *snort* Suffice it to say, he can protect me, and hey~ What girl doesn't fall for a guy that saves her?

Forward Motion
Ain't this a good song? And I don't mean the band; I hate them actually. =.o; But getting over shit, that's what it's all about. And Lord knows I've done plenty of that. Two girlfriends in the past three years, both of which cheated on me~ Meh, I've had to do a lot of "forward motion", and shit..It's harder than anything. Everyone knows getting over someone makes you feel like the lowest shit on earth. Kinda like..you're feeling so good, right? Maybe you finally reached a new point where it doesn't hurt quite as bad, but lo and behold, your past decided to tea bag you in the face and give you a good tit fuck right into feeling like you were ass raped.

Excuse the sex metaphors, but that's actually the best I can explain it. Maybe your ex decides it's the perfect time to send a text your way reminding you of all the mistakes you made, or else you get a package in the mail and you're so damn excited 'cause who the hell doesn't love it when a big ol' present comes in the mail, but you're instantly crushed because inside of this huge ass box is all the non-edible presents you gave the person you really cared about because they feel the need to kick you in your brain's vagina as hard as their impossibly conceited and manipulative attitude allows. *exhaaaaaaale* We all struggle with forward motion~

Her most Beautiful Smile
Huh..I actually took a second to pause and smile myself when this suddenly popped up. Talk about a major transition from getting over things to reminiscing about good times. You know, despite all the shit my first girlfriend put me through, she made me so damn happy. Sometimes it just doesn't even matter that it was an unhealthy relationship; sometimes being happy's all that matters, right? Sometimes after going through a terrible pile of bullshit, coming out of it to find a person who's willing, at least for the time being, to help you is..wonderful. It makes you feel special, and that what you did and how you felt mattered to someone at least. Hmn.. :]

This Ain't a Scene, it's an Arm Race
....Fuck this song. I've had this computer for years, so do not hold me against having the most shitty music imaginable on it.

Shindemo Boogie-Woogie
Now isn't this fitting? ;3 Miyavi, how I lurve thee~ This song makes me want to get up and dance, to be honest. That or pull on a gypsy skirt and break into all the stores downtown.

Ashita genki ni naare
Oh ho ho ho~ I really need to practice my terrible guitar more. Yes, I have the most god-awful one to start out on: The neck is far too wide for my small baby fingers, the strings are nylon, not metal, so they're harder to work with, not to mention it's acoustic and everyone knows those are just...ridiculously difficult next to electric. I assume it's some business to do with the degree of pressure needed to hold down on the frets, but I'm not an expert so I can't be sure. Still, if I want to play the sitar, I seriously have to try as hard as I can on the guitar, right?

*snerk* I'll be the only sitar toting Lolita in the world soon~ *gringrin*

I Hate Everything About You
...*siiiiiiiigh* She comes to mind when this song decides to slither up on me. She took advantage of everything I gave to her, twisting me into a piece of shit for two whole years, hating me when I had friends other than her and cheating on me the whole time, while still doting on me with words like "I love you" and "you're the only one for me". Ha...it's hard to believe how gullible and fucking stupid we all are in our youth, isn't it?

It's my philosophy that everyone's born with a clean slate; you might have heard this before, but bear with me. It's like a blank piece of paper ready to be written or drawn on. It's like a communal blank slate that anyone can leave an impression on. We're all shaped by what's around us, the world we live in. If you are in the proximity of something long enough, it begins to effect you. Simple, right? Through life, people, ideas and choices, you can become either an attractive work of art or an ugly stain on the wall. A voluptuous suburban mural or a shit stain on the sidewalk.

But the longer you live or interact with others, the more chances there are to become dirty.

You can try to stay unsullied, by not letting anyone get close enough to touch you. You can keep yourself perfectly clean of sin and immorality and pain if you keep people at an impenetrable arm's-length distance. To never be moved, to never open up, even in the presence of "friends" and "teammates". You can wear a dainty little black and white mask, and no one will ever have to know just how weak or corruptable the smooth, white surface of your never-been-touched paper-heart is. Because if you do open up, even a little bit, someone already perverted and sullied could steal your white paper heart and start scribbling all over you, turning you the same color as them. You may be more interesting to look at, but you'll never be the same shade you were.

They could sweep you off your feet and take your heart away from you and tear it apart into unrecognizable shreds. Who could ever be so cruel to do something so obscene? Someone already dirty, sinful and disillusioned; trying to peddle their own feelings of misfortune and misguidance onto someone so beautifully chaste. Contemptually groping for a companion to share their misery with and inflict their imprudent desires upon.

To start off, everyone's ignorant. Ignorance of the evil on this planet. Of the corrupt government, of their alcoholic parents, neglecting siblings, and perverted strangers. It varies for absolutely everyone when and how and why they meet it. You don't recognize it when it shows itself to you at first, though. In fact, your lily-whiteness is attracted to the darker, bigger figure that exposes itself to your crystal-clear eyesight. You're drawn to it like a one-way gravitational pull. You're interested, right? Because you've never seen something like it before; you've never seen something so interesting, so different, and the peddler baits and lures you because you're fucking gullible. They're older and know the rules of the game, and you don't. A little part of you realizes that it actually is really unfair, but you fall for the fiend's tricks because you're so entranced by the neoteric bane that tugs on you by a collar of affection around your neck. You grow to love it because you seek to know it.

Eventually, you love the crumbled-up piece of trash, old and battered and thrown away. It hungers so much for its past, of when it used to be licit and pure. It can't remember what it was like to be very decent or very good. It preys ravenously on clean, brand-new pieces of paper and yearns to have that purity all to itself, to understand it again, maybe even trick itself into being it again. The hunger for this virginal offspring leads its desire for it to be morphed into a genital need, the cravings so perverse that its sexuality becomes aroused by the virginal lacking of its partner alone.

In the end, it accidentally kills the white, new piece of paper with its own longing and voracity. It strangles the very good and the very gentleness of the spotless paper crane and tosses it aside. But how could they have prevented it? It's not possible. You were already dead to them. They realized that if they hadn't ripped up the piece of paper they adored, it would have become black and disgusting from simply being around them. The blossoming white surface would be blemished beyond repair over time. Living would begin to color it and change it into something different. The only way to immortalize that which it loved so, would be to snuff it out.

All in all, we're all encountering people that fuck up our lives. Sometimes people see it as a lesson and grow to accept it as an inevitability. Because of this, they learn to morph into something not white and pure, but at least not black and brown and bruised. The ones that don't, they turn into pieces of shit of the world that fish for compliments, make double-edged remarks, and drag everyone down with them.

...Whoooooo, wowie..>_>

Happi endo no uta
Ahahhhh~!!! Yusssssir, this song is amazing. Everyone needs to listen to it, I swear. Seriously, it's so damn good. >_< It's just Miyvs messing around with recording shit and looping tools and all this shit that he doesn't even know what the hell they are 'cause he's a crazy Japanese father with a daughter named Lovlie that he loves more than anything and he's the most damn talented guitarist on the face of the planet~!

Over the Moon
Because this song is so obscure, let me display my own flabbergasting paragraph. It's a quote from my favourite author named Kurt Vonnegut. This book's called Breakfast for Champions, and I'd suggest it to anyone. Actually, I'd suggest all of his books. Go read them.

"Your parents were fighting machines and self-pitying machines," said the book. "Your mother was programmed to bawl out your father for being a defective moneymaking machine, and your father would bawl her out for being a defective housekeeping machine. They were programmed to bawl each other out for being defective loving machines.

Then your father was programmed to stomp out of the house and slam the door. This automatically turned your mother into a weeping machine. And your father would go down to a tavern where he would get drunk with some other drinking machines. Then all the drinking machines would go to a whorehouse and rent fucking machines. And then your father would drag himself home to become an apologizing machine. And your mother would become a very slow forgiving machine."

1000 Words
This brings to light how much I really want someone to be with. I think there's a vast a difference between platonic cuddling and romantic cuddling. When you're with someone and you know that you're the only one they hold like that, you can be so overwhelmed with love and just pure happiness that you don't think you can ever be so damn glad that you're alive again. Just knowing that at least for that moment in your life, you're the most important person to someone feels so perfect.

When they used to tell you sweet nothings to manipulate you, it almost makes up for the pain it caused because in hindsight, you melted and felt so. fucking. happy.

Alright, I'm out, yo~ Enough venting. Comment if you want, it doesn't bother me either way. G'night.