Someone I know once told me a story: One day, he and his best friend got terribly bored, and decided that it'd be cool to spend a week being each other's archnemesis. Apparently, it was good times. They did things like sabotage each others' cars, set traps in their bedrooms, tell all their friends horrible stories about each other (the stock response was, "Are you two still doing that?"), and attack each other in the hallways in epic battles. The mindfuckery was, I hear, superbly done.
In a similar vein, it occurs to me to wonder what it might be like to go through a day as an overdramatic, angst-wielding emo-machine.
I wonder if it'd be good for my spiritual development. I mean, it does have its attractions. I'm sure I could develop the ability to flail around in a properly gothic manner. And I'd get to say things like, "Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I must make my way to the highest building on campus and scream Allen Ginsberg quotes to the heavens."* Really, who doesn't want to do that, once in their life? (Side note: Here, go read "Howl."**)
On the other hand, I'd fear for my life. And I suspect that if I enter into the venture with the sense of light-hearted mockery that inspires me, I could just possibly be missing the entire point. Still, the idea is tempting. I'm not sure I have enough black clothes... Oh, but angst-death emo-monkeys often wear the same clothes for days in a row, don't they? Or is that just angst-death emo-gamers?
* Not that anyone around here would probably find that particularly odd.
** Allen Ginsberg wrote "Howl" after spending months shut up in his apartment doing nothing but read William Blake. It all suddenly makes sense, doesn't it?***
*** Footnotes are contagious. I read Terry Pratchett or ursulav's LJ, and suddenly they're infiltrating everything.
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