Stranger in Paradise

When I was a little girl my brother and I would go to Ohio to visit my grandparents, where we’d see our cousin that lived with them. They all since moved. But as a teenager in the mid west she had nothing going on except her love of scene and emo aesthetics, games, and internet culture. When I was really really little she showed me My Chemical Romance, and they became my tether to her world.

I wasn’t particularly participating or living in the aesthetic (I was a bit young to do that properly), but I remember how it felt to be around it. That was the age of Danger Days, Kingdom Heart Dreamdrop Distance, the rise of Tobuscus. I remember actually going to Gamestop with her to get Dreamdrop Distance, and she was upset that I just wanted to play Minecraft with her.

I used to feel so connected to it, there was a romance in the rainbow darkness. It was an early fantasy, one that felt more mature, but has since left a lasting impression on me. I will always be there. And I’ll feel it still. It’s more than nostalgia, I know it is.

Aesthetic is the defining of a life. It can change as life does, but it’s a feeling that’s kind of the greatest drive a person could have to thrive within their personality, and I think that’s kinda cool. Anyways I’m gonna play Skyward Sword.

In a lost direction, has flown a forever wind. Terrorizing complete enigmas, without a desire for destruction.

It's like her headache began inside the whirlwind. Caught in the spiral, her time ticked in between seconds like a low hum of half the sine wave in the flatline. There's a destruction in that. A little earth, a little marvel, a little light shining without direction. At least that's the present moment, no direction.

I don't believe in dimension, I don't believe in rioting or stars or bubbles in halos without the opposite being true. I need there to be wind, and I need the destruction to be silent and without loss. I want to watch nothing burn but disappear inside itself.