My Summer of Love (also known as the virgin suicides)

basicly just re-read what i said about the virgin suicides. i dont know why i watched it. i knew it would be exactly the same. but no. oh well in my defence i was bored and had nothing better to do. dear lord it was so shit. okay perhapes not as bad as VS but definatly along the same lines. i even knew what was going to happen.
its VS for the more hardcore psudointerlectuals.
boring boring boring.
jess and i have a more convincing lesbian relationship than that.
*sigh*
it just makes me angry you know. and it wasnt even a bad film its just the fact that it was heralded as 'easily the best film of the year' and it got so many awards for basicly not making a big deal about big deals and cramming as many lingering-on-beautiful-solitary-scenary shots as possible. not to mention the focusing on middle distance eyes flicker to the top left glances from both the girls.

in other news, having great fun in Sheffield. no really i actualy am. spent the day shopping, got a new phone (the samsung j600) its so pretty! and i took a really nice picture of my brother with it and its my background now. we went around alot of goth shops but... im having a bit of an identity crisis here, and i cant really be bothered to go into it in much detail, but i feel like. i dress like i do to go against convention blablabla, but all im doing is just conforming to a different set of conventions. and yes i know wow mel it took you that long to realise. well no, it just didnt bother me. it all seems so fake. so contrived, so easy to be a goth now. just go in the shop with three more of your carbon copie hardcore emo girlfriends (who youve 'kissed' whilst drunk at parties and giggle about it) and buy with your white middle class money a coat that says that you have a desire to go against what society tells you to do.
its just.
it makes me want to cry you know.
but i dont have the energy.
im pulling out.
ive had enough.
fuck goth, fuck it. its nothing. its not anything anymore. like punk its dead. its not coming back and here i am born to the wrong era, pining after the shadow of something that never really existed for me. i need to go back to Camden. i need my booster of genuine to fight off this mass produced bollocks.

got a text from Squiggely today, asking me if i liked shiney sparkely things.
im going to make him a mix CD for christmas. it shall have a song for each of the things we talk about... that doesnt make sence... we talked about music alot on our first date (first getting together outside crackers) so im putting a song on there from every band that we both like.
and the avril lavine girlfriend song (illegaly downloaded of corse, bugger me if im going to give her a PENNY of my money) because well it signifies alot... pfht.

so yeah, this is Melissa, nolonger the happiest goth.
floundering in the turmoil that is realised denial.
remembering the sad expression of disgust she caught on her own face as she walked by a mirror in another un-namable and un-unique conveyor-belt goth store.