We’re screaming at the same moon.

August 20, 2009

Craig Owens’s screaming is calming me down right now. It’s keeping me in the clouds. His screaming does two things for me. Either I want to headbang to the sound of Chiodos’s music or I want to go to relax to it. Not that it’s boring, but that it calms me down and puts me in a mixture of reality and fiction. It’s like I could pretend I feel the same way as Craig did after his first love broke his heart (thus he wrote an album about her). Yet this time I feel more like the instrumental rather than the lyrics. It’s like when I was listening to Brand New’s Déjà Entendu record.

Press my face up against the glass
with both eyelids shut and
baby this won’t get any easier
baby this won’t get any easier
baby this won’t get any easier

I’ll lie on the dirty carpeting in my room (that can’t be fixed unless we were willing to pay for new wood floors) and breathe. I like taking deep breaths because it makes me feel a little better. It takes some of the frustration away. — I sound cheesy again. — When I push all the frustration back I feel like and old toy disguised as a new one.

It’s not a big deal. It has been three weeks since my last guitar lesson but I’m mad at myself. This is part of learning, but I am always angry at myself for not knowing what he might throw at me. School starts next week. I was supposed to read two non-fiction books from a list they sent me. I lost the list and didn’t read the books. I have to be tested on them. I guess I’m just looking for more stuff to mope about.

We all have our good days and our bad days, yesterday was a mixture of the two.

Song Of The Day – “No Hardcore Dancing In The Living Room” by Chiodos http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJCX_Nit388

chiodos lyrics

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Maybe “finding yourself” is part of the process as well.

April 11, 2009

04/10/09

You’re so brilliant, don’t soon forget. You’re so brilliant, grace marked your heart. — Anberlin “The Unwinding Cable Car”

These words stain me in the best possible way. Though if anyone were to ever say them to me, they would sound fake. Untrue and dishonest. Cheesy, even. These words are not meant to be repeated, for the purpose would dull. I’m just a dreamer. It seems vivid fantasies dance through my head. Words etch themselves across my skull. I create plots and scenes for movies or books I will never write. I am impatient and I have no idea what to do with these ideas. I dream I’ll become a guitarist. Sometimes I even write out interviews I’d have with people in my head. Things I would say onstage. Music racks through my brain and occasionally they will escape my lips in the form of a hum. I live in my head and in the best moments of the past. After each concert I try hard to remember each feeling and moment I witnessed or felt. And I don’t think I’ll ever officially realize the past is over. I close my eyes and become lost in thought.