Anyway I asked Amazon for info on it, and have decided to tell the world of my new love. This post is also a post on the 'fake fan epidemic'.
1. Maybe it's the sound- the genre-less blur that resides on the pop radio station and in every emo child's heart, maybe it's the lyrics- the contrasting nostalgic and sometimes morbid words that you just want to memorize it; whatever it is, it's the perfect combo for now, whether that is a good or bad thing.

Because it kind of works for everyone, everyone likes it. This is a clash of the 'cultures'- the emo music kids who so violently protect their music, and the 'basics'. I'm going to say this now; I love emo kids, but...
Y'all often misdiagnose. Not wanting your precious hipsterness to leak into the rest of the world, it's hard to see something you love make it's way to the radio and the ears of people 'unlike' you. The diagnosis is 'fake fan'- a person who acts like they love and are knowledgeable on a topic, when they are miles from it. Note- a fake fan is NOT a person who doesn't know the name of the fourth album's third song. A fake fan is NOT a person who has only heard 5 songs.
I think the way to look at it is this; isn't it fun when you see a person wearing a shirt with your FAVORITE thing's logo on it? You freak out a little, then just want to be their friend?
It's popular now- so many new fans to be educated and watch grow! So many old fans for them to share wisdom- it's a big family with varying levels of obsession from 'just getting into it' to 'sold soul to'.
Now, fellow fans, I am off to soak my ears in 'Twisted Up' for the next two hours.
Now the bigger news (and the reason I'm doing this one-handed) is that I hurt my hand. I was babysitting my friend's little brother and cousins- we were having a good time, playing video games, messing with the dog and I decide to make dinner- macaroni. I've made macaroni a million times. I begin boiling the water. All is well. I put in the noodles. All is well. I begin to add the cheese packets and milk. All is well. It's when I began to add the butter that things went wrong. It was frozen and I was trying to use a butter knife because hey, it's butter, right? It didn't work and I ended up at my friend's sink with blood all over my hands, the macaroni half made, and a huge cut on my middle finger.















