When I see myself now, I look so much older. My eyes more tired, my hair careless and sun soaked, the skin stretched over these bones more worn out but new with everyday, my stare less timid and more frequent. I don’t recall looking like this at the beginning of the year, or even a month ago. But, I’d be lying if I said it bothers me.
I don’t know when this happend, or if I’m the only one who can see it, but I just feel so much older. I can be surrounded by people 3, 4, 5 years older than me and sometimes I feel older than them. Often, I’m just flat out annoyed with them. I just feel so much older than I am. I have to step back and remind myself sometimes that I’m not twenty one, I’m not this independent women. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it’s just how it goes. I think I just don’t like people very much, and the amount of dangerous time spent alone with my mind as accumulated quicker than the years should.
I’d choose this ruthless head over your blank, worthless one any day. My mind might fixate everything into oblivion, but at least it works and feels.
When people experience their first love, and make all these plans, and hope for the brightest future I just want to stop them right there. I want to be like “hey, retard, don’t get your hopes up.” That’s awful; that I don’t even want to see them fucking try. But, when it doesn’t work out I keep back my “I told you so“‘s and just exchange a look that says it, and better luck next time, instead.
I just want to tell you to quit making plans, like going to the same school or what your living room’s going to look like when you get your first apartment together, please don’t say those claims because making a promise that won’t be kept will sting and reside for the longest time—I know. And, I guess you’ll have to learn for yourself too. I guess there’s no way around it really. I could advise anyone, but no one would listen. It’s one of those things you have to try for yourself for the sake of that off-chance where you prove everyone else wrong.
Getting a positive result—worth it.
Getting a negative result—wishing you never tried.
I want something fun, and casual for now, but I need at least some consistency. I don’t want to worry and second guess anymore. Don’t keep me around to waste my time and make a fool out of me.
Try to lose me, try to shake me—it’s all you’ve done so far. You let me in, allow me this glimpse then shut me out like a scared little child. I don’t know why you do it, but I’ll get passed it. No one understands why I even still think of you, why I bother. All my friends just shake their heads and try to steer me away. But I can’t stop trying. Maybe I’m just crazy. I have this feeling like I’m what you need, and for whatever reason you just won’t let yourself have it. Maybe I just tell myself that because you’re what I want. Either way—a challenge’s a challenge and it’s not over until I win.
Words will never be able to relay how this has made me feel, and what I have gotten from it.
People can complain about them, and shitty arena sound quality, and the setlist all they want, but to me, this is why I was there, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I loved the set. Wasn’t crazy about the cover, would have much rather heard original material, but they at least played it extremely well. I knew I’d be ecstatic with whatever they played, and no doubt, I was. I sang as loud and as well as I could as much as I could. Sometimes you just have to be quiet and let Jesse Lacey take it away for you because his vocals reach untouchable heights. He has always had the most influence on me as an artist, now it’s so clear why. His performance was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It was so carelessly somber, it was literally arts interpretation of life. The way he pours himself out, all for him, and doesn’t give a shit—it something I can only aspire to. Seeing him though, as opposed to just hearing him, I really got a feel for him. During it, I noticed immediately how tortured he is, and how emotional he is, but also how beautiful it is. And it made me see that I was okay being in the same state. It’s okay to feel, and be vulnerable, because it produces something so undeniably beautiful.
I had this theory before, but now I know it’s true—every record is a stage in life. Only the four main studio albums, you start in order from oldest to newest. Everyone supports a completely different place and you work your way through them with the help of the music that simultaneously corresponds to your life at that time. I’ve gone through the very teenage Your Favorite Weapon, I’ve gone through the angsty, head-spinning tidal wave of Deja Entendu, and now I’m all over The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me. Every line of it is etched into my brain, it works as a second conscious, and I would get every fucking word tattooed on me, it’s that for real. It’s just the way he is during that record, that I am now, and probably will be for a very long time because I don’t think I’ll on that Daisy level until I’m like 26. It’s the way he’s so open and earnest but entirely empty that I can identify with to the point of insanity. It’s that dire need to pour yourself into someone who’s too reluctant and closed off, but it’s that endless fight that’s going to kill you, but you’ll never let up because it’s not just for you, it’s too big for just one. The whole thing just reassured me that he has felt how I’m feeling and I’m okay with that because the result is so beautiful—even if majority of it is tragic and bothersome and bitterly uncomfortable. He just left me know that I’m not stupid, my actions are for me and for what I need to do. Everything was put into perspective, and cleared out, and suddenly I knew everything about myself and what I’m doing. “At least now I can say that I am trying.”
All this probably won’t make sense, but I said I could never put this into words.
Set—
Welcome To Bangkok
Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don’t
Sic Transit Gloria… Glory Fades
Sink
Degausser
Millstone
The Archers Bows Have Broken
Wish
Sowing Season
Jesus
You Won’t Know
It never ever fully hit me I don’t think. Probably because I feel really comfortable with traveling and a festival setting like that. Being there, surrounded by musicians and assholes and dedicated fans, I realize that I appreciate this atmosphere so much. I’ve been a persistent audience member, and show attendee for five short years now and, whenever I see shit like what I’ve experienced this weekend, it makes me crave that stage so much more. I loved everything about that weekend. I want that all the time.
On the ride down Mackenzie and I were obviously cutting up every state. Made me realize Massachusetts is and will always be number one. Connecticut sucks, New York is gross, and only certain parts of New Jersey are cool. Spring Lake is boss though. The beach is rad, and the whole area is perfect. The hotel was so cute and lovely. And, the Windmill was clearly where it’s at for all your late night eats.
The festival itself was so gnarly. For such a large scale event it was so well put together. They were usually on time with the schedule, placements were good, only complain I had was the cancelling of the Bamboozle Bonus Round guests, but Motion City’s double set made up for it! I’ve decided that people who like and listen to Motion City Soundtrack are probably the most non-judgemental people, just because I feel like we’re all really in touch with our weirdness and accept the weirdness strangers have to offer. I always have a great time with those dudes. The Maine kicked off the day, and that was amazing. Mostly played new stuff, but it was just really good to see them and I love the new record anyways so it was great. Foo Fighters doggggg, what the fuck! Dave Grohl is my dude. I would fucking marry him on the spot! He sounds fantastic, still goes hard as a mother fucker, and looks amazing as ever. They closed with Everlong and I had the time of my life. Done fucking deal.
Day two opened with Boys Like Girls. They said they haven’t played a show in a year and a half and I believe it because I haven’t seen them in two, didn’t think they were still a band. Fuck it! They killed it, everyone was jamming, and I look forward to a comeback. I feel like the rest of the day was spent on the beach. I played a decent amount of volleyball between the two days. Dudes in their middle to upper twenties always seem to love me for some reason. I’m pretty sure they would hate themselves however if they knew how old I was. I don’t know what leads them on, must be the tits. Whatever, it’s fun to fuck with them. Onto Brand New. Mind was blown. My life came full circle with the closing of that set and I just felt so okay. There was nothing left to do after that but sit in the beach, spy on T. Mills, smoke a joint with my sister, and hang out to Bon Jovi. Sick shit.
Me and Mackenzie raped Bamboozle. For something new, we knew how to make it work. Encountered so many interesting people, bought some sweet stuff, got a lot of lovely free shit, and everything else in between.
Might be going out on a limb, but probably, that was the greatest weekend ever. It was so short but it just felt so right. This kind of setting is home. Can’t wait till next year.
How did we just go from arguing, and being pissy, to doing research together, to you confiding in me enough to tell me probably one of your biggest secrets that you’ve “never told anyone before”? How does this shit happen? How is this our relationship? It’s so inconsistent and rocky, but I don’t know if I would ever trade it for a perfect one. It’s real. And, sometimes that means real tough, but I forgive you.
I can understand why people don’t like to visit cemeteries. I know, it’s full of over-priced stone and decaying dead bodies. Logically, why would anyone want to go there? But there’s something about it that I love. It’s one of the only places in the world where absolutely nothing matters. Maybe it’s because you are physically so close to death, maybe it’s because once you get passed all that it’s so very reposed and beautiful.
When I’m there at first I recall a few memories that jump out at me, like the last time I was there and placed a flower on my grandfathers casket before stumbling and trembling back to truck to flee. Or I recall my Grandmother and Uncle and how they remind me of my father and how I wish I had gotten to know them better and how I wish I had gotten to know my other grandfather at all. And after I’m all done contemplating and trying to remember them, I feel alsoluetly beside myself. It’s truly all you can feel at a place like this. You stand by the mosolium or a grave or sit in the car, with the sun on your skin, and a slight breeze keeping your hair in motion, because it’s always a little windy at the cemetery even on the most lifeless days, and all you can do is keep your eyes open and be content. You grasp reality so clearly and in the most non-abrasive way that it acts as a catalyst to true orientation of how fragile and simply lovely everything is. Problems seem so minuscule and beauty is amplified until its all you see.
These places that make you take a step back and examine everything in the most comfortable, non-threatening way are just so wholesome. I adore it. I would spend forever there. And lucky me, someday I will.
