It has been mentioned to me that I might be Goth. Um, I don’t think so. I’m a demon, or a demoniac if you’re nasty. Goth is a label, and I don’t care for labels. It’s not that I have a problem with Goths. They’re usually friendly to me, and they’re delicious.
Apparently, (according to some nameless numskull) you might be goth if you think anything looks prettier dead than alive. I’m sure they were referring to flowers and poodles, which go without saying, are definitely much prettier dead than alive. But it’s not a universal rule. I mean, I’m not dead… I’m not alive either. Some like to say undead, but that’s just my sister’s definition. Some like to say reanimated, but that’s her dorky friend’s position. And of course, some don’t have all the parts that are required to define life (though I hear she likes to eat them).
Besides all this. If you don’t think I’m pretty as is, maybe you are the weird one. Or maybe you just want to die.