Emilie Autumn

“There is no such thing as justice, all the best that we can hope for is revenge.”

“If you're going to die, then die. If you are going to live, then fight.”

“I myself am not afraid of ghosts; I am afraid of people.”

“Going back to the basis, the phrase ‘Fight Like A Girl’, and we’ve all heard that growing up. And by that they mean that you’re some kind of weakling and have no skills as a male. It’s said to little boys when they can’t fight yet, and it ridicules us. By the time we were born, the most of us hear things which program you to accept and know that you are less than your male counter part. It comes apparent in the way you’re paid for your job, it comes apparent when yóu are not allowed to go outside after a certain hour because you stand a good chance of getting raped while no one says that to your boyfriend. While women, anywhere, live in some kind of fear, there is no equality and that is mathematically impossible. We cannot see that change or solved in our lifetimes, but we have to do everything that we can. We should remind ourselves that we are fifty-one percent. Everyone should know that fighting like a girl is a positive thing and that there is not inherently anything wrong with us by the fact that we are born like ladies. That is a beautiful thing that we should never be put down because of. Being compared to a woman should only make a man feel stronger. It should be a compliment. In this world we’re creating it actually is. I remember this one guy who came to our show in Texas or something and he had painted his shirt “real men fight like a girl”, and I cried, because he was going away in the army next day. He bought my book because he wanted something he could read over there. I just hoped that this men, fully straight and fully male can maintain and retain all of those things that make him understand us, and what makes him so beautiful. A lot of military training is step one: you take all those guys and put them in front of bunch of hardcore videogames where you kill a bunch of people and become desensitised. But that is NOT power! I will not do that. I will not become less of a human being and I refuse to give up my femininity because that’s bullshit. I’m not going to have to shave my head and become all buff and all that to be able to say “now I’m powerful” because that’s bullshit. All of this, all of us, we are power. You don’t have to change anything to be strong.”

“We will paste upon the curled pages wordsLike charming and romantic and sentimentalForgetting that charming is witchcraftRomantic is loveAnd sentiment is what makes us human”

“And if I end up with blood on my hands, well I know, that you'll understand, 'cause I fight like a girl.”

“Across the skyI will come for youIf you ask me toDemystifyYour uncommon dreamsStranger things have come trueFear no more the midnightFear no more the seaClose your eyes, regret nothingYou're safe with meLook into the shadowsStep into the mistSearch your land but doubt neverI still existAsk yourself: is this all there isTake no answer but the one you findI have put my faith in aberrations of your kindBut even if you're in my mind.Should we hear the silenceShould we hear the noiseI don't need this blind acceptanceI have made my choiceLight lives in the darknessBeauty lives in painIn destruction we may lose ourselvesBut still I will remainAcross the skyAcross the skySee beyond the momentThink beyond the dayHear the wordHear the word”

“Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?”

“Well, I’ve been a musician my whole life. When I was two, I would sing the theme from Star Wars in my crib; my mom taped it for proof. Then, when I was five, I asked for a violin. No one knew why I would want one, but my wish was granted and I ended up a classically trained fiddler by age 12. The only problem with that was, when you’re a classical violinist, everybody expects you to be satisfied with playing Tchaikovsky for the rest of your life, and saying you want to play jazz, rock, write songs, sing your songs, hook up your fiddle to a guitar amp, sleep with your 4-track recorder, mess around with synths, dress like Tinkerbell in combat boots, AND play Tchaikovsky is equivalent to spitting on the Pope.”

“Did you know sometimes it frightens me--when you say my name and I can't see you?will you ever learn to materialize before you speak?impetuous boy, if that's what you really are.how many centuries since you've climbed a balconyor do you do this every night with someone else?you tell me that you'll never leaveand I am almost afraid to believe it.why is it me you've chosen to follow?did you like the way I look when I am sleeping?was my hair more fun to tangle?are my dreams more entertaining?do you laugh when I'm complaining that I'm all alone?where were you when I searched the seafor a friend to talk to me?in a year where will you be?is it enough for you to steal into my mindfilling up my page with music written in my handyou know I'll take the credit for I must have made you come to me somehow.but please try to close the curtains when you leave at night,or I'll have to find someone to stay and warm me.will you always attend my midnight tea parties--as long as I set it at your place?if one day your sugar sits untouchedwill you have gone forever?would you miss me in a thousand years--when you will dry another's tears?but you say you'll never leave meand I wonder if you'll have the decencyto pass through my wall to the next roomwhile I dress for dinnerbut when I'm stuck in conversationwith stuffed shirts whose adorationhurts my ears, where are you then?can't you cut in when I dance with other men?it's too late not to interfere with my lifeyou've already made me a most unsuitable wifefor any man who wants to be the first his bride has slept withand you can't just fly into people's bedroomsthen expect them to calmly wave goodbyeyou've changed the course of historyand didn't even trywhere are you now--standing behind me,taking my hand?come and remind mewho you arehave you traveled farare you made of stardust tooare the angels after youtell me what I am to dobut until then I'll save your side of the bedjust come and sing me to sleep”

“History written in pencil is easily erased, but crayon is forever.”

“Hey, look at me! Look at me! Look at me! And...look at me. Will he think I'm sexy enough? Will he find me wholesome enough? Am I fuckable? Is he allergic to feathers?!”

“I could have guessed it all along, cuz now some drama queen is gonna write a song for me”

“If that happens again someone's gonna get shot.... with an arrow of love!”

“I was reading everything under the sun from music history to feminist literature to Shakespeare, which is why I'm not a complete idiot at this time.”

“Shakespeare; the only man I'd ever love...”

“Simply put, if you are a Wayward Victorian Girl, I'll find you.”

“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”

“We had people fainting during the last tour, but I'm aiming for people to actually drop dead at this one.”

“Women who focus on style over substance usually find themselves in a big fucking hole, with other men who want to fuck the hole. Oh so smooth, and none sophistacted. Because, you know, how sophisticated can hole-fucking really be”

“She's locked up with a spinning wheelShe can't recall what it was like to feelShe says, "This room's gonna be my graveAnd there's no one who can save me,"She sits down to her colored threadShe knows lovers waking up in their bedsShe says, "How long can I live this wayIs there someone I can pay to let me go'Cause I'm half sick of shadowsI want to see the skyEveryone else can watch as the sun goes downSo why can't IAnd it's rainingAnd the stars are falling from the skyAnd the windAnd the wind I know it's coldI've been waitingFor the day I will surely dieAnd it's hereAnd it's here for I've been toldThat I'll die before I'm oldAnd the wind I know it's cold...She looks up to the mirrored glassShe sees a horse and rider passShe says, "This man's gonna be my death'Cause he's all I ever wanted in my lifeAnd I know he doesn't know my nameAnd that all the girls are all the same to himBut still I've got to get out of this place'Cause I don't think I can face another nightWhere I'm half sick of shadowsAnd I can't see the skyEveryone else can watch as the tide comes inSo why can't IBut there's willow treesAnd little breezes, waves, and walls, and flowersAnd there's moonlight every single nightAs I'm locked in these towersSo I'll meet my deathBut with my last breath I'll sing to him I loveAnd he'll see my face in another place,"And with that the glass aboveHer cracked into a million bitsAnd she cried out, "So the story fitsBut then I could have guessed it all along'Cause now some drama queen is gonna write a song for me,"She went down to her little boatAnd she broke the chains and began to float awayAnd as the blood froze in her veins she said,"Well then that explains a thing or two'Cause I know I'm the cursed oneI know I'm meant to dieEveryone else can watch as their dreams untieSo why can't I”

“Here you sit on your high-backed chair Wonder how the view is from there I wouldn't know 'cause I like to sit Upon the floor, yeah upon the floor If you like we could play a game Let's pretend that we are the same But you will have to look much closer Than you do, closer than you do And I'm far too tired to stay here anymore And I don't care what you think anyway 'Cause I think you were wrong about me Yeah what if you were, what if you were And what if I'm a snowstorm burning What if I'm a world unturning What if I'm an ocean, far too shallow, much too deep What if I'm the kindest demon Something you may not believe in What if I'm a siren singing gentlemen to sleep I know you've got it figured out Tell me what I am all about And I just might learn a thing or two Hundred about you, maybe about you I'm the end of your telescope I don't change just to suit your vision 'Cause I am bound by a fraying rope Around my hands, tied around my hands And you close your eyes when I say I'm breaking free And put your hands over both your ears Because you cannot stand to believe I'm not The perfect girl you thought Well what have I got to lose And what if I'm a weeping willow Laughing tears upon my pillow What if I'm a socialite who wants to be alone What if I'm a toothless leopard What if I'm a sheepless shepherd What if I'm an angel without wings to take me home You don't know me Never will, never will I'm outside your picture frame And the glass is breaking now You can't see me Never will, never will If you're never gonna see What if I'm a crowded desert Too much pain with little pleasure What if I'm the nicest place you never want to go What if I don't know who I am Will that keep us both from trying To find out and when you have Be sure to let me know What if I'm a snowstorm burning What if I'm a world unturning What if I'm an ocean, far too shallow, much too deep What if I'm the kindest demon Something you may not believe in What if I'm a siren singing gentlemen to sleep Sleep... Sleep...”

“I'll tell the truth; all of my songsAre pretty much the fucking sameI'm not a faerie but I needMore than this life so I becameThis creature representing more to youThan just another girlAnd if I had a chance to change my mindI wouldn't for the worldTwenty yearsSinking slowlyCan I trust youBut I don't want toI don't want to be a legendOh well that's a god damned lie - I doTo say I do this for the peopleI admit is hardly trueYou tell me everything's all rightAs though it's something you've been throughYou think this torment is romanticWell it's not except to youTwenty yearsSinking slowlyCan I trust youBut I don't want toI will swallowIf it will help my sea level go downBut I'll come back to haunt you if I drownLow tide and high teaThe oysters are waiting for meIf I'm not there on timeI'll send my emissaryIf I photoshop youOut of every picture I couldGo quietly quietBut would that do any goodWill it hurt? No it won'tThen what am I so afraid ofFilthy victoriansThey made me what I'm made ofThe brighter the lightThe darker the shadowI don't need a minderI've made up my mindGo away”

“I do not have OCD OCD OCD.”

“Oh, and I certainly don't suffer from schizophrenia. I quite enjoy it. And so do I.”

“Why can I never go back to bed? Who's is the voice ringing in my head? Where is the sense in these desperate dreams? Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?”

“He cried when I left, which I find to be standard male behavior.”

“And falling's just another way to fly.”

“My reasons to liveWere my reasons to dieBut at least they were mineNow I've freedom unboundCut the laces of life”

“For this freedomI have given all I hadFor this darknessI gave my lightFor this wisdomI have lost my innocenceTake my petalsAnd cover me with the night”

“Your stockings prove your virtues.Be certain they are clean and free of tears.”

“Thank you.It used to be knee length, but then I discovered that when I get angry I like to cut things.I'm not allowed to have scissors any more.It's still pretty lengthy, but I've been threatening to shave half of it for the past week and nobody seems to believe me...I do it all myself though because I scream when I'm touched and that scares people.”

“Then I break a glass and I slit my very innermost thigh so that I can pretend that I'm menstru--- well, unavailable.”

“Awareness is the enemy of sanity, for once you hear the screaming, it never stops.”

“EA: Is it the smoke that smells like vanilla?Audience: Yeah.EA: Yeah, they do that to mask the chemicals that are actually killing you.”

“Once upon a time is now.”

“DeathWish: You spent some time working with Courtney Love and Billy Corgan on a creative level, how did this experience help your growth as an artist?EA: It didn't -- it stunted it entirely. I gave up over a year of my life and career helping Billy with his flop of an album and designing and building all of the costumes for his music video. With Courtney, we were friends, but I spent years working to record and promote her flop of an album only to find that my value increased every time I peed in an orange juice bottle so that she could fake her way through a drug test. Not exactly a haven for artistic growth.”

“And, what's more, this 'precious' body, the very same that is hooted and honked at, demeaned both in daily life as well as in ever existing form of media, harrassed, molested, raped, and, if all that wasn't enough, is forever poked and prodded and weighed and constantly wrong for eating too much, eating too little, a million details which all point to the solitary girl, to EVERY solitary girl, and say: Destroy yourself.”

“You're so easy to read but the book is boring me.”

“You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.”

“You know the games I play And the words I say When I want my own way You know the lies I tell When you've gone through hell And I say I can't stay You know how hard it can be To keep believing in me When everything and everyone Becomes my enemy and when There's nothing more you can do I'm gonna blame it on you It's not the way I want to be I only hope that in the end you will see It's the Opheliac in me”

“It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.”

“Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors...Spices and bold flavorings were created to mask the taste of putrid and rotting meat...What then was music created for?Was it to drown out the voices of others, or the voices within ourselves?I think I know.”

“I am my heart’s undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.”

“I feel as though, if I were to extend my hand just a little toward the pool where the ideas ferment, I could grab at the idea and pull it out of the pool and onto the floor where ideas must stand before the jury of the brain. There, it must present itself, still from the pool, and a bit shivery because new ideas are not given a towel to dry off with, towels being reserved for proven theories; new ideas are simply pulled and stood up, and asked to explain themselves - not a very pleasant thing really, which is why so many people go into the room where the pool is. The exercise is exhausting not to mention a bit difficult to watch, if you are at all a sympathetic creature. What was my idea, anyways?”

“It is not seen as insane when a fighter, under an attack that will inevitable lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been encouraged for centuries, and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed. How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind?”

“I can explain myself: If you want to be safe, walk in the middle of the street. I’m not joking. You’ve been told to look both ways before crossing the street, and the sidewalk is your friend, right? Wrong. I’ve spent years walking sidewalks at night. I’ve looked around me when it was dark, when there were men following me, creeping out of alleyways, attempting to goad me into speaking to them and shouting obscenities at me when I wouldn’t, and I suddenly realised that the only place left to go was the middle of street. But why would I risk it? Because the odds are in my favour. In the States, someone is killed in a car accident on average every 12.5 minutes, while someone is raped on average every 2.5 minutes. Even when factoring in that, one, I am generously including ALL car-related accidents and not just those involving accidents, and two, that the vast majorities of rapes still go unreported […] And, thus, this is now the way I live my life: out in the open, in the middle of everything, because the middle of the street is actually the safest place to walk.”

“If leeches ate peaches instead of my blood, then I would be free to drink tea in the mud!”

“Nothing in my life has ever made me want to commit suicide more than people's reaction to my trying to commit suicide.”

“I still own my heart, which I know because it hurts so much.”