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mood |
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contemplative |
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music |
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Smile Empty Soul * Bottom of a Bottle |
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[Kieran walks into his new room, placing his bags on the floor and moving his headphones from his ears to around his neck. He bends down, rummaging through a few bags and pulls out his laptop, setting it up on the small desk in the corner. He brings up his journal and clicks update. ]
So I was told that getting an online journal here was the thing to do. And god knows I'm such a follower.
[He smirks slightly at that sentence, before typing again. ]
The name's Kieran Cornetto. I just transferred here from a school in New York because my grandgather just died. We recieved his inheritance and my mom decided to send me to a school thats farther away. I think it was also somewhat to get rid of me, but what can ya do.
I'm almost 18 years old, and I grew up in the village. I moved around to different parts, but I stayed in the same area. My dad committed suicide when I was 4, and my mom raised me ever since. She owns a vintage store in the Village, and we live above it.
I'm going to come right out and say that I'm not gay. Most people assume I am. It's probably because of the eyeliner thing. I like girls. I'm not picky at all, you just have to be able to keep my attention, which is harder than it looks.
Music is my passion. I sing, and play the guitar too, but thats only to back myself up when I perform. I write my own songs about pretty much everything, hence the carrying a pen and a pad of paper everywhere. If you want to get to know me, I'm almost always around.
AIM: KieranxCornetto
[He hits update and puts his computer on sleep, looking over towards his bags. He sighs and starts to unpack, throwing them messily into the drawers. He's about half-finished when he gives up, saying "Fuck it" quietly to himself. He stands up, leaving the rest sprawled out all over the room. He throws on a black hoodie and tucks his CD player and a small notebook and pencil in the pocket before heading out the door. ]
contrast and compare between the busy ones
and the ones that don't care
until there is no one that you really know
so i drift through these days of appointments and promises made
they will all end up broken and quickly replaced.
weeks are slow, days drag on;
even practice and parties seem long
but i found myself going
i guess there's nothing to do
oh well
group of kids, line of cars,
more will show up after the bars close
there's this boredom that drowns everything.
bottles break, music plays, conversations competing for space
i look for a corner or a quieter room
there's no heat in this house
i can't breath with these words in my mouth
but i'm not going to say them
yeah, i've made that mistake before
on the stairs, she grabs my arm, says whats up,
where you been, is something wrong?
i try to just smile, and say everything's fine.
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