The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight (maeincarnate) wrote,
The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight
maeincarnate

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If I write out these lyrics, you will see my soul.

Next time I'm feeling blue or pining for a lost love or melancholy or any other feeling whatsoever, rather than express it myself, or describe it, or even save all of you from having to endure the swings of my mood, I shall post the lyrics to a song. Preferably by the Cure or Depeche Mode. But from time to time, I'll find the true deep meaning in something that you wouldn't think would be the radio-friendly choice for an emotional empath such as myself, or maybe, just maybe, I’ll quote a band you never heard of. This way, I can make sure that you all know that I am cooler than you are because I listen to music that you don't know. I'm on the edge.

There's no stopping me. You can tell I'm a part of the subcultural underground by how many band names I have written on my notebook. And how many buttons I have bought from the mall that have catchy little phrases on them, like PUNK GODDESS and NOT IN YOUR DREAMS. I put my Why Be Normal button upside-down on my backpack. As you can see, I don’t know why anyone would want to be normal. I sure don’t.

Maybe I need to explain this in song:

People are strange when you’re a stranger
Faces look ugly when you’re alone.
Women seem wicked when you’re unwanted,
Streets are uneven when you’re down.

When you’re strange, faces come out in the rain.
When you’re strange.
No one remembers your name,
When you’re strange.
When you’re strange.

See? That’s me. I’m strange. Get it? People don’t understand me. I’m deeper than that. Only Jim Morrison, Robert Smith, or maybe John Lennon really can get at what I feel. You don’t understand.

Go out and buy a copy of the Cure’s album, Wish, turn out your lights, light a few candles and some incense, and just listen. You’ll see god, and maybe you'll see me too.
Tags: pop culture, rant
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