My Emo Book

Image by Gian (aka UnBuZzEr) via Flickr

Most of you know that I am writing my story. It might be a book, hell it might even been on a bookshelf (other than mine) one day.

I really enjoy the writing. I try to write a bit every day. I even bought a moleskin notebook to jot ideas and outlines down in.

I also know that its not exactly an uplifting story for most of the book. It has a few demons thrown in.

But, I never expected it to be this emo.

Holy crap.

Here is another passage:

“Hate is the purest emotion.

It doesnt need two people.

You can physically feel it growing and bubbling in your gut, occasionally reaching up and squeezing your heart with a force that sits between pain and pleasure.

It can lay dormant, and be called on when you need it. Hate was the teddy bear that I held close to me. It was comfortable, easy to slip into and out of without much thought.

I prided myself on my ability to control my hate, drawing on it like a super-power, flinging it only at people that deserved it.

I loved hate.

Love, on the other hand, is duplicitous, and completely lacks the purity of hate. It has to have an object, someone for you to focus your love on, and there was no guarantee that love will be reciprocated.

There is self-love, but its momentary, providing quick pleasure followed by regret and disgrace. One can love themselves, but that is often considered by most to be inappropriate at best, and inhuman at worst.

Love is always followed by pain.

And pain was something I avoided like the plague.”

What do you think?  Would you keep reading a story that seemed to be getting more emo by the second?