The emo girl.

I saw an emo girl the other day walking home from my early Thursday-morning class. The Dashboard Confessional patch and Alkaline Trio pin were dead giveaways. She was really, really cute too; shoulder length curly black hair; a nice body. I guess I didn't get a good look at the front of her, but I'm guessing it was just as lovely as the back. And then I got to thinking, "Would a girl like this actually talk to me?" or even more imporatanly "Do I have the balls to talk to her?" I don't know if I would.

Emo kids, by some sort of a definition, shy, sullen, and lonely. I certainly fit that descripion to a point, and some of the music I listen to helps with that. But I still don't know that you could call me an emo kid. My interests stretch far wider than sitting alone in my parents' basement and trade mixtapes. Sorry for the stereotype, but my point is I'm not really an emo kid. Never mind the fact that I listen to Saves the Day and The Get Up Kids, and I write lyrics screaming of heartbreak and despair. Then again, maybe she's not the stereotypical emo girl at all. In that case, I should go hit it.

Anyways, I don't know if it would work in the long run. I mean, if she really is shy, like you'd expect someone who listens to Dashboard to be... who would do the talking? Someone in my relationships has to talk and it's almost never me. So that wouldn't work. But I'm just speculating here, as I haven't even gotten past the first step of saying "hello." It may as well be a cold day in hell when I do. I'll probably never see her again.

I forgot about the Hot Or Not person of the moment last time, so for your viewing pleasure here are two more HoN people of the moment.

I'd hit 'em both. Twice.

You're Pretty When I'm Drunk

I suppose it's time that I update. A lot has happened lately, or maybe nothing's really happened at all. Maybe it's just been another day in the life of Kevin, I don't know. I got some recently. Yes, me, your resident loser, the whiner extraordinaire, champion of all that is melancholy got some play the other day. Or days to be clearer. Of course, it first happened under the influence of a lot of alcohol, but it still happened nonetheless. I hope it was all in the spirit of fun. The spirit of being in college, of being alone with nowhere to go. Because that's all I want right now; I don't need the baggage of a relationship. I hope she feels the same way because, though she seems to be one of the least fucked-up girls I know, I don't think I could have a relationship with her. Never mind the fact that I don't want one anyways... even if I did I don't think I'd want one with her. I'm just not attracted, and over the years I've come to realize that I have to be attracted, both physically and emotionally. I know what you're really wondering, though. I didn't have sex. But what did happen was ten times as good as my trusty right hand, and I had fun. That's what's really important.

I don't think I've been as melancholy lately either. Maybe it's because a girl touched my penis. I really couldn't tell you though. I still see the same happy people holding hands, and I'm still disgusted at them. I still question the fact that I'm sitting here at UW-Whitewater, learning more and more everyday on how I'll really be going nowhere. I may be smart. I may have some uncanny charm on certain people. But I still question everything that's taught to me, even when it's that there's not really any rules in writing (there really are, but no one dares to say that). There is no room for questioners in this world. Everyone has succumbed at one time or another to their superiors. Even your favorite rock stars, artists, and authors. But getting away from this dourness... I'm uncharacteristically happy. I walk these streets like I can still conquer the world. I still think I can write the great American novel. I still dream of being a rock star... a bassist for the best of the fictional bands, The Jews (or maybe it's more PC, yet still shocking Spastic Asshole?). I don't know what to think of this, but as in the story I just read (Candide), I'm not going to think about it too hard. I'm just going to live my life.