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Emopedia
Welcome to Emopedia,
41,110 heart-rending poems in English
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Today's Message of pain
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Loneliness is the dark despair of solitude.
It is the feeling that no one loves me.
Not even my mom or my cat really understand the pain of Teenaged Angst.
No one understands me.
No one loves me.
My family claims that they do, but we all know they're lying.
God, I hate them so much; the fakes.
The only people who love me, The only ones who understand or care
All live in my iPod...
Valentines Day. People are supposed to be happy, right?
I'm not.
Not since she left me.
I guess she found someone more screwed up than I am,
or perhaps he's just more Scene than I, or maybe it's his hair.
It was the best three days of my life, though, with her.
She was so much better than the girl last week.
I let her draw Xs and Cut Lines on my wrists in sharpie.
They're still there, mocking me, reflecting the darkness in my soul.
They are tempting me.
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Did you care...
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*... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
- ... conjuction verb noun preposition article verb noun?
- ... that it's probably not the weekend (The chance is 5/7)?
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Recent deaths
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Too bad you can't customize this in the original.
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Today sucks because...
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February 7: Shit! I Forgot My Lines... Day
- 1599 - Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a man of uhh, shit. Line. Line, I need the—
- 1600 - A man of Infinite Jest. Of most excellent fancy. Wait, asshole.
- 1601 - Yeah, got it. Ahem. I knew him Horatio, a man of infinite jest. Of most fancy—Fuck—of most excellent fancy.
- 1602 - If this happens on the night we'll just use the alternate.
- 1603 - How about you go fuck yourself, I'm the artist around here, you just tell people where to move on stage.
- 1604 - Whatever, Kenneth Branagh, you do whatever you fucking want.
- 1605 - I don't need you, nobody needs you, I'll make my own fucking lines. I'm the fucking bard. Motherfucker.
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Today's featured artistry
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Poets of the Month
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Modusoperandi hunts down random, unfunny shit which he replaces with less-random, quasi-funny shit. Occasionally he gets up off his ass (or more correctly, sits down on it) and makes a page of his own, to which no one ever goes.
Recently he's been making pictures that people don't like and, having discovered UnNews, has been making fake news stories (rather than the fake regular stories that he normally makes).
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The Bard (baptised 26 April 1564 – died 23 April 1616) was an English poet and playwright widely regarded as the greatest writer of the English language, and the world's preeminent dramatist. He wrote approximately 38 plays and 154 sonnets, as well as a variety of other poems. Already a popular writer in his own lifetime, the Bard became increasingly celebrated after his death and his work adulated by numerous prominent cultural figures through the centuries.
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Congratulations to Hardwick Fundlebuggy, our Poet of the Year, and Mhaille, our Self-harmer of the Year!
Vote for Poet of the Month | Vote for Loner of the Month | Vote for Self-harmer of the Month | Past Losers
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This Uncyclopedia, started in 2005, currently contains 41,110 articles. Uncyclopedias are being written in many languages, including Farts!:
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