Walking home from work, I passed a chubby teenage girl. As she approached, I could see she was a typical emo kid: dyed hair, piercings in ears, nose, lip, heavy eye makeup, knock-need gait. In fact, the makeup was streaking long black lines down her face, dissolving in floods of tears. She was speaking – blubbering, barely coherent – into her mobile. What tragedy had befallen her? As she came within earshot, I heard her utter the words, “but the only band I wanted to see was..” The rest was lost in a stream of slot, saliva and devastation.
And that, I thought, right there, is the epitome of teen angst, the distillation of the very essence of emo. Whatever happens, your problems will never be greater than this.
Insert image here. It was impossible to find a pic to nick of an emo girl that wasn’t a pouting selfie in underwear.
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