"And the red ones make me fly, and the blue ones help me fall and I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling."

I have realized something very important.

I can see why people think I'm suicidal.

Honestly, I could easily be voted most likely to commit suicide, if you disregarded my feelings and love, or at least like, of life.

This is because of two reasons.

1) I am trying to achieve the Academic Honors Diploma with Distinction.

For most people, that already means I will have jumped off a bridge by the end of my junior year. That and the excessive amounts of AP and Honors classes.

2) I wear black.

This seems to also make me suicidal and depressed. Just because I wear black does not mean I'm depressed. While I am depressed sometimes while I am wearing black, the black does not affect my mood.

But it puts another round of tickets in for me for the raffle of who will commit suicide.

Just an interesting thought I had.

How stereotypes drive the earth.

How by trying my hardest not to be any stereotype, I'm actually conforming with people trying to do the exact same thing. Not that I care.

I don't care when I walk down hallways and people stare at me for wearing black.

I don't care when I walk down hallways and goths stare at me for wearing jeans.

Then again, perhaps it's the loud music.

It may be the source of my staring problem.

But it sets me apart. And it makes me happy. I like loud music. I prefer it when you can feel the beat of the music in your body. When your thoughts are only the music, and all other problems can be pushed out.

As you float away into the sea of notes. Where nothing hurts and you can just enjoy.

Hehe. The title for this one is funny. It's actually from one of my favorite songs, but I think it fits perfectly for this post.

"And I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling. And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall, fall on your tongue like pixie dust, just think happy thoughts." - Headfirst for Halos My Chemical Romance