I dunno if it’s the weather, or the season, or just whatever, but I am again going through another bout of emo. I mean, it’s crappy and all when I’m in the middle of an insulting session with some fairy midget and then suddenly my life flashes before my very eyes:
Yeah, my life just bored the living hell out of those three Caucasians, and I don’t even know them. See, my life’s exciting like that. And for that very reason, depression comes in. And whenever I get depressed, there’s no better way to prove I’m slowly losing my grip on reality, I’ll again talk to an imaginary vestige of my subconscious. So guys, say hello to my inner child. He’s right here beside me. Can’t you see him? No? Freaks.
INNER CHILD: I hear you’ve been going through a lot of emo lately?
ME: How’d you know?
INNER CHILD: I’m residing in your your subconscious, duh.
ME: Oh yeah–
INNER CHILD: I IZ IN YER SUBCONSCIOUS WATCHIN YOU FANTASIZE ABOUT–
ME: Kid, in case you’re forgetting, this is my blog and I don’t like to be humiliated here by an underage fraction of my subconscious.
INNER CHILD: I know. Because you’re doing that too well on your own.
INNER CHILD: So what am I doing here again?
ME: As you mentioned earlier, I’m going through some emo shit and some existential angst.
INNER CHILD: So how am I supposed to help you with that?
ME: I dunno. You’re the inner child! Think up of ways!
INNER CHILD: “I dunno. You’re the inner child! Think up of ways!” Geez, you make it sound like us inner children have answers to all of life’s questions.
ME: But isn’t that what they all say? Feed your inner child, make him/her happy, you become happy too? Aw c’mon, don’t tell me that the money I spent on comics didn’t even make you happy one bit?
INNER CHILD: Baby Jesus would be ashamed of you.
ME: What? I thought you like comics.
INNER CHILD: No. I like anime.
ME: Wait. Anime? But I hate anime. How can you like something I hate? Aren’t you like, a reflection of me or something?
INNER CHILD: …
ME: Right? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be? Me, only more retarded?
INNER CHILD: Just that fact I’m being compared to you makes me feel so worthless.
ME: Wait, how can you be not compared to me? You’re my frigging subconscious! You know life sucks a lot when your inner child himself is ashamed of you.
INNER CHILD: So tell me again, why do you talk to me when all I do is make fun of you and all?
ME: …I have absolutely no idea.
INNER CHILD: Sucks to be you, right?
INNER CHILD: So what’re you emo about again?
ME: You know those times when you just get depressed for no apparent reason? And then you suddenly laugh? And cry?
INNER CHILD: No, but I’ll try to pretend to understand what you’re saying for the sake of empathy.
ME: Think about it. I think I’m becoming bipolar, and you don’t mind?
INNER CHILD: Why should I even care about you being bipolar? I mean, you suffer, I don’t.
ME: You seriously don’t get it do you?
INNER CHILD: What’s not to get? My life’s simple: I get cotton candy. I run in the meadows. I wank off my uncircumcised underaged patootie to La Blue Girl. Life’s peachy.
ME: If I get depressed, my psyche will be damaged.
INNER CHILD: And?
ME: You’re part of my psyche, right?
INNER CHILD: Yes.. oh.
ME: Now you get it.
INNER CHILD: Holy shit.
INNER CHILD: But this sucks. I mean, I don’t mind you going crazy and drowning in loony juice, but c’mon, you didn’t have to get me involved! I hate you!
ME: There, there. Everything’ll be alright.
INNER CHILD: No it won’t! You frigging nutcase! You’ll destroy me! You and your stupid emo moments!
ME: Didn’t you know? You were supposed to cheer me up. But where were you all this time I was asking for help?
INNER CHILD: …
ME: That’s right, you were off watching tentacle rape movies somewhere.
INNER CHILD: My life sucks.
ME: Tell me about it. Also, you made mine worse. Much, much worse.
INNER CHILD: (tears welling up in eyes, lips quivering) B-b-b-b-but…
ME: Know that cold, awkward feeling in your gut? The feeling that your soul is shrinking? The feeling that you just cause irrepairable damage to someone’s psyche and you can never get things to go back the way they used to be? That’s what we call guilt.
INNER CHILD: (wails loudly, runs off into my room)
ME: That’s it, cry like a kid! And I know you’re watching La Blue Girl again, get out of my room, you perv!
INNER CHILD: (from inside my room) I HATE YOU!
ME: I said no porn in my room! Get out, dammit!
INNER CHILD: (from inside my room) NO!
ME: Jeezus, you’re such a fun soul to be around, do you know that?
Does your inner child treat you like shit? Tell me all about it.
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