On the king of Emotown

Neil: would you like to read something truly emo?
Tara: uh... sure? who wrote it?
Neil: did i ever tell you about the writer in my class, captain mcemo pants?
Tara: I think so, but I can't remember which one he is
Neil: he's the overly dramatic, self-hating overweight gossip who reminds me in some twisted way of the guy i was (but not) in high school.
Tara: I'm not sure that sounds familiar. You may have talked about him, but I just don't remember. that's enough of a preamble to emo though
Neil: ah. well...i'm not sure how this will translate if you don't know him, but his blog is just...it's painful, is what it is. [URL withheld to protect the innocent]
Tara: "I didn't get the girl either." ugh
Neil: i know!
Tara: that's awful
Neil: i know! it's so overwrought.
Tara: oh dear: "They may be getting better ratings now, but I doubt they remember the one-man fighting army that fought for anime in that company. I had to fight for the anime not be taken out even at the risk of my job." one-man fighting army eh?
Neil: army of one, dear. army. of. one. seriously, i think he writes the way 13-15 year old boys feel.
Tara: the entry from Sunday, September 2nd, 2007 makes me want to kill myself just to get away from it. "I'm suffering from one-titis..."
Neil: see, that makes me feel better about my essential humanity. his life is a perpetual emotional trainwreck. from "what about love": If I can keep a bit of my naivette, it's my idealistic outlook on love. It'll never happen, hell I don't even believe in marriage anymore. I only believe in the monetary benefits of it.
Tara: oh come on. okay, this might win the WTF award:

I'll only be convinced my work is good if somebody actually totally dedicated themselves as true fans or if someone buys it for great amounts of money. Other than that, I will simply deny that my work is any good. I'll believe in it, only to sell it. But deep inside I know my work sucks. It doesn't have critical acclaim, I'll just sell it. Like a whore on the streets, I'll whore it out until someone really gets it and goes for it.

from then on it's contradiction after contradiction. Tara: I feel bad for him, and yet I don't know that I can ever read his blog again
Neil: yeah. i feel bad for him, too, but he does do it to himself. and he's kind of two faced. he said some shit about the scientist that was uncool. and about me. but never to our faces. we just heard about it afterward and, well, he's got this whole inner world that's just...fascinating.
Tara: yeah. it makes me a little glad he's far away though. there are inner worlds, and then there are inner worlds where you're the King of Emotown, wading through puddles of tears and lost dreams. I still feel bad for him, but to a point
Neil: well, he does bathe in the fountain of his lost innocence. right next to the boulevard of broken dreams. that street he's on? it's got no name. and the sun never shines. winter approaches.
Tara: okay, but I don't think you referred to yourself that way anyway
Neil: man...read the karma one. it's amazing. "what are you doing today, captain mcemo pants?" "what am i doing? me? karmic survivor? emotional holocaust victim? i am pushing forward. waging war against a mediocrity that fails to understand my genuis...and the chinese girls who refuse to date me"
Tara: FUck you Karma eh?
Neil: yes! "you just have to kill me"
Tara: his passion and will are ironclad, but are his underpants?
Neil: that is the question.