Be Somebody

March 4, 2009

If I had to choose one song to die to, I would never be able to choose. Thursday’s “Understanding In a Car Crash” is just so perfect to me. Almost like poetry. The lyrics are just so brutal and beautiful. The guitar puts you on edge as goosebumps crawl up and down your arms and legs. Hot tears bubbling at your eyes; deep breaths.

So push the seats back a little further
Roll the windows down and take a breath
I can see the headlights coming
They paint the world in red and broken glass
The spinning hubcaps set the tempo for
the music of a broken window
When the lights are on and the cameras click
We open up the lens to broken glass and it’s over in a flash

Or another favorite of mine is “The Scientist” by Coldplay. The lyrics, Nobody said it was easy. Nobody said it would be so hard. ring in my ears like they are something to live by. Honestly, living is the hard part, death could be rather easy. You just die. That’s it. Everything. Gone. Over. Nothing more than that. Now Lovedrug’s “Doomsday and the Echo” is oh so lovely. I adore every last lyric to this song. I cannot even begin to explain how much I love it. “Everything Starts Where it Ends” is brilliant as well, though there is something about “Doomsday and the Echo” that makes me itch over each sentence as though I should be analyzing it.

Can’t walk it off
Can’t come clean
               Later going on to…

Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everything again
Drink up, pass the gun again
Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everyone again
Someone pass the gun again

I got to thinking about this subject after thinking I was a failure. Playing guitar is one of my dreams and I have to succeed at it. Guitar lessons have been going… not so good. At least I don’t feel I’ve been doing nearly good enough. I want to friggen’ shred! I want to riff and rock. I want to be up on stage, sweat dripping from my body. Being a phenomenal performer such as Jason Hale or Jimi Hendrix. The spectacular sound as well, maybe the cleanest you’ve ever heard? I want to be the best of the best. Each lesson I’d like to be told I am amazing at guitar even if I am still a beginner. I would love for those words to be spoken honest and truthful. I guess plan “B”, which is writing, is what I should try to shoot for, for now. I’ll do my best to improve my writing each and every day. Giving every writing assignment 110% percent whether it is stupid or not. As most have you have heard the saying, “No problem.” let me introduce a new one to you all. No promises. 

Reader,  I don’t fully understand myself either, but leaving earth with a sad song just seems like a good way to go. When I die I want to be cremated, I want my (Alleged I suppose. Though trust me, Kat Von D IS going to tattoo me.) tattoos to tell my story before I am burned to ashes. I want them to play one of my song choices for death. I want to be remembered.

Current song of choice at the moment, “The Undertaker’s Thirst For Revenge Is Unquenchable (The Final Battle)” by Chiodos.

And all the world’s a stage
I existed because I dreamed
And well, I dream no more
I’ve given up on the entire human race

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You’re Gonna Go Far Kid

February 16, 2009

I was thinking. If I was offered the opportunity to be a journalist for a music magazine (possibly Alternative Press or Rolling Stone) or to be a guitarist in an amazing band. Which would I choose? I had wanted to play guitar since I was nine years old. Practicing my air guitar in the privacy of my own room, completely spazing. Or pouring my guts out with ink and paper in hopes of becoming an utterly brilliant writer.

Being in a band would be quite interesting. I’d enjoy the fun questionnaires you get in interviews and your “humble” opinion on things. Looking super fierce in when you play live so you can intimidate people. Or to be some coffee drinking freak, blinded from the sun, glued to your computer, writing obsesser. Wearing T-shirts and tight jeans, strutting around like you know what you’re doing. Reader, does that thought ever cross your mind? I wonder where life will take me quite often. Who will I end up being in the next couple of years (I’m hoping I’ll stay true to who I am now.)?

Reader, let’s be honest. Would either of those jobs fully satisfy me? I seem to be quite an undecided person. I purchase an item at a store. “I love it! I’m so happy I bought it!” The next twenty minutes. “What the heck did I just waste my money on?! I could have bought ‘such and such’.” Yep, that is me. Being on the road with a band would be fun for a while. Awake at all hours, doing what you love, traveling, and playing shows. My only problem? I get motion sickness. I’d practically be bulimic. Then the shows would get tiring, performing the same songs until you write a new one. I suppose I shouldn’t think so negatively, maybe I’d be able to make a big impact on a lot of kids. Then there is writing. After a while, what is there to talk about? You are usually seen with a pen in your hand or your eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen for so many hours.

I guess I can be quite the “party pooper”, but that’s just me my friend. You either do or don’t like me, I don’t care too much. Either one I’d love. Writing would be easier to handle, though I’d miss the comfort of my guitar, Bella, too much. The excitement of playing a gig and going crazy on stage sounds and looks intruiging. Who knows where the world might take me….


We Meet Again

February 1, 2009

I had waited all week to make my trip back to Hot Topic to see my favorite (realistic) vampire. It was almost postponed *gasp*. Thankfully I made an excuse to go down and see him, though my ride (mother) did not buy it. My younger sister’s birthday is coming up so I’d pick something out for her. (It’s quite funny, really. I have my little sisters listening to bands like My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, and Paramore. Then they’ll walk around the house singing the lyrics to “Teenagers” or as Eleanor would say, “Teenagerds”. Ha-ha!) I hope you don’t get the wrong idea and think I’m stalking him, only making a trip down to my second favorite store.

Eli is there and since it is Super Bowl Sunday, the mall is practically vacant.  I smile on the inside knowing that Eli is up at the counter. For some reason I don’t fell much excitement. That is the best part. I come down on a Sunday to end my week nicely with a feeling of excitement and joy, yet I feel plain. The feeling when you could smile at nothing for days, do cartwheels around the house, or get tingles on your arms?  Have I lost the feeling completely?

Walking around David, is nice as usual, asks the same ol’, “Do you need any help finding something?” or “You guys doin’ alright?” You have to admit, it can get a bit annoying. I found the belt I wanted. White with cute, colorful, little monster people on it. Unfortunately it is a little big, but at least it fits! For my younger sister I found a small, pink, plush, Domo doll which should fit, considering her birthday is on Valentines Day. I walk around a little, trying to time it right so Eli can ring up my items this time.

At last I am paying for my items and Eli asks, “Do you want to donate a dollar to a charity for kids so they can get a better music foundation and get one of those bags?” As he pointed to two black messenger bags. One with a skull and the other smaller one that reads “music = life” Or at least something like that. I was once again lost in my own little world, inside my head, not paying attention to what he was saying. I replied mindlessly, “Uh, sure.” While speaking to him, a heat reached my cheek bones. How many times must he make me blush?!?! Eek! I already had the smaller bag left over from Christmas. Eli replied, “Do you want the smaller one or the bigger one?” It took me a moment to reply and just said, “Um, you can just keep the dollar.” He rolled up my belt and handed me the Domo plush, our hands almost touched. I couldn’t help but to think, Jeez, he has ginormous hands!!! I decided to save a plastic bag and put my items into a Disney bag my mother and I had been carrying around.

I left the store, in the words of my friend Hannah, blushing Bella red.