What Else Do You Need From Me?

I question life. I question why we're alive. I say I'm alive to write, to play, to perform, to entertain. I seldom believe it. Reassurance is key.

"I buried this hurt,
concealed in this heart
Go lock up your doors,
these cold steps will warm"

2010 is the Year of the Black Rainbow, and I don't care the ridicule I receive for believing this. This is my faith. This is my life. This is my god.

Issei

My opinion on music has changed a lot since I wrote this one song...

I've been getting really heavy in to hip-hop.

I think I'm racist towards my music. It's as if all black people can't write good music. I don't want to sound like a bigot, but I think it's how my mind works. I absolutely despise most "black people" music. I've been getting into hip hop aspects like Linkin Park, Hollywood Undead, and Limp Bizkit. My main musical influence in terms of the new project is Fort Minor. Mike Shinoda is one of the most respectful rappers I know of. Not once have I heard the word penis come out of his mouth. He raps about things that are important to him, he uses rock-influenced melodies, an amazing snare/bass balance, and intricate lyrical patterns to get his point across. I've actually known of Fort Minor since before the Rising Tied. I didn't say that to brag about it; I wanted to point out that the album (released in '05) has been in my discography for five years, so in a way, it's been in my blood for that long.

I want to open for Shinoda.

My blogs have been getting more and more superficial.
I apologize for that.

It's Too Late To Find A Better Way Out Of This

"Are you in or are you out?"

There is a Coheed lyric... "the world looks better when you're falling". I really have some sort of problem with this. I mean, don't get me wrong, I will never question my Claudio's methods and thoughts, but there is just so much more meniacal potential in that statement. I always transposed it into "the world looks better when you're burning". It's far more dark in tone, as if to say "here, I'll set you on fire. Trust me, you'll like it". Trust me, you'll like it.

Trust me.

"Arguing with a fool proves there are two."

I used to think I had a problem with trust. Turns out it's not as bad as I thought. Turns out it's a problem with choices I had, not trust. I chose the wrong people into the wrong things. I chose whores because they were more convenient. I chose shallow kids due to what a wise young pedophile once called "proximity infatuation". The easy way out.

I'm gonna get pretty cliche right now. I think... I have three scars on my right wrist and forearm that will not go away. You can probably infer what they're from. Everyone knows. I used to be a blabber mouth. In saying that I used to I guess that means I still am, because I'm doing so now... The point I'm trying to make is that I don't want them to go away. They remind me of important things in my life. As distant as she is, she's still a huge part of my life.

The gear makes the average the best. The mindset sets you apart.

Dedication. Stick to your own guns, live by your own code.

I'm better than all but one. I'm more of a genious than all.
You're all just too stupid to pay attention.

Once Upon Your Dead Body

I did not have a good day.

This might be a bit of a superficial, bitchy blog, but I'll wing it.

My record in tennis is 11-1. I hate Melendez for that. I beat the fucker four times before today. Four. Back down. Learn your place. First singles is mine. All mine. No one can take it from me. I worked so hard for it.

I'm tired. I leave to St. Joes every morning at 7 and arrive home at 10. That's fifteen hours a day at that godforsaken place. I love it there, but I'm drained from all of this. I sleep from 11:30 to 6. I'm awake at my house for two and a half hours every day, and that includes getting ready for school. I'm sick of it.

Kids are fake, selfishly righteous, egotistical, shallow, self-concerned fucks.

Thank you for your time, and I'm sorry this wasn't worth it.

God Only Knows When Your Word Isn't Pure

So tby is officially done. Forever. Let me rephrase that... So Rich and I are officially done with Bus. For the past month he's been a flaking, unreliable child.

This is all okay though. I have a project with Andrew Weir that's very promising, and it's been decided that Rich's lovely vocal chords will supply Nobody Move! with a hint of awesomeness.

All advertisement aside, I think I'm done with random hook-ups. I don't really enjoy them anymore. I want a girl. One. I'm getting over the one though. She's just my friend. I'm cool with that. I want a girlfriend. I want a cuddler. I want a cute girl. I want her to enjoy simple nights on my couch... just there...

There's a kid in my school that needs to learn a lesson. He goes to my school, tries to steal my girls, and acts like it's our school. They're respectable girls, you gorilla. They like me better. I run that place. I always have.

I miss her skin. I miss her clothes. I miss her smell.

Lists.

I really don't like kids. Or adults. Kids try too hard to fit in. All kids. Just stop, lower your standards, and get the fuck along. The thing is, that's exactly the same with adults. You think people would learn. Be your fucking self. Don't be afraid to be a "creeper". Don't be afraid. Nothing matters.

I don't want to die via natural causes. I don't want to get murdered. I don't want to die by anyone or anything else's choice. It's my life.

In religion class a few days ago my ignorant fuck of a teacher said that our life is god's creation and therefore not ours to end. We have the right to choose if we die or not. The church is wrong. The pope leads an army of ignorant, selfish fucks. Quote me. Organized religion is a country club. If I want to die, who are you to tell me I'm "not allowed". It's not selfish. I won't get into that, though...

Pop-punk can kiss my ass.

In My Presence You Will Make Sure the Fiction Meets Its Fate

Apparently I'm a romantic.

I don't believe it. This year I've been living the "hit it and quit it" motto, and I believe the situations I've been in this school year can support that. The nomad who told me this "romantic" thought knows me. I might be. I might be the guy that you see in the movies. I want to be.

Prove there is a god. I never capitalize that word. Well, I have, but every time I'm conscience of it, I revoke the Catholic-established believe in that being a proper name. I ask so many questions about religions because I want someone to persuade me. Those little "proofs" of "G"od are not accurate. Science can explain why the Earth is where it is. "therefore, God exists". I hate that phrase. It's philosophical, sure. And philosophy is my favorite state of mind, so why not? Because it's bullshit philosophy.

I'm straightedge. I'd like to talk about that. I don't drink, smoke cigarettes, or do drugs. First off, alcohol is retarded. I know a girl who drinks every weekend. That is not an exaggeration. Granted her reason is not just for a fun time, she has responsibilities I wish to never have to face, and she's just blowing it away with the alcohol that leads to her eventual premarital bullshit. Hah, if you know my life in any way, you know why I'm against cigarettes. Oh hey, you two maternal figures, nice knowing you. Time to die. Hope it was worth it. My aunt was a druggie. If my dad knew I was blogging about this he'd be terribly pissed off with me. Hah. Needless to say, Val was very very acquainted with tractor-trailers at the time of her death.

To be honest though, this isn't half of my life. My life is fairly normal as of now. School, tennis, shows, music. Teenage boshiz. I won't pretend and be all "I've been through shit you've never been through before, fucker. That makes me cooler", because it's simply not true. Everyone has bad times. I'm lucky.

I didn't know people actually read these blogs until now. That vaguely makes me want to censor what I say, but I probably won't.

Life is a mental game. Always.

I struggle with paranoia and my own self-worth.

Misleading Trust Into A Relationship That Makes No Sense

I'm tired. I'm delirious.

I want a bloodhound when I settle down. If I settle down. If I'm alive during the time in my life in which I would settle down.

The word "hound" holds a special place in my heart. I don't know why, but it just does. Maybe it's because of how I practice it so often. Maybe it's my fixation on Claudio's works...

Cryptic blogs seem to be my forte. I hate it. I'm doing it right now. I talk about myself too much. That's why I can't write, I'm too selfish.
...I'd do anything for her though...
I'm too selfish. I'm too cryptic. I'm too hypocritical. I'm too nothing...

I'm basically just typing at this point. I've been home and awake for 3 hours a day this week and last. That includes the hour and a half I spend at night to myself and the hour and a half I spend every morning getting ready to go to school.

I have no one to talk to anymore. I'm growing more and more paranoid about my best friend day after day. She's definitely out to keep me to herself. I see it in her eyes. My girl is going to realize my obsession. I'm sure of it. She has to. My St. Joes girl seems to be a bit too popular for her own good. Things have gotten weird between us ever since late January. I don't regret what I did though. I'd do it again. Time and time again. She's cute. Everyone I talk to is cute.

My drummer and I have an awkward relationship. He's REALLY good. Better than I am at any of my melodic instruments. I need to be better. I can do better.

My dog is dead. He was stupid, but he was cute. I pretend to miss him at times to get attention. That's selfish of me. There are times when I do truly miss him though. You know, those times when I drop a french fry and shout, "Max come!" so he'd come and eat it up. Those cute eyes. Those droopy ears. I was mean to him. He hated me during his last years. I grew up with him. 16 years of my life. Stupid dog.

What bugs me is when people claim they cut their wrists. Show me the scars, you stupid fuck. No scars? Really? Then I think you just grazed your wrist in your trendy little pusillanimous mannorisms. I've still got my scars from Mel, but thank god those ones are gone from that stupid whore.

I'm tired. I'm delirious.

I'd Do Anything For You, Kill Anyone For You

Is it bad that I hold you and Coheed in the same esteem? I don't know.

It's been too long. I'm a whimp, a coward... Sometime soon. It has to be. You've molded who I am. You've destroyed relationships from the inside out, made me change my physical appearance, influenced my vocabulary, my music...

Stop. You're too cute, too fun. You control me. I let you. It's an obsession. It's completely unhealthy.

I'll tell you soon enough.

All The Worlds From Here Must Burn

Hypocrisy is a strange concept.

I get annoyed when stupid fucks don't use proper grammar. I constantly question things society has brainwashed into the youth of Bergen County dumbass adolescents. Things like, and I quote,
"hello mothafucka , hey hi how ya doin..."
All grammatical failure aside, the repetitive nature of this godawful, senseless quote is the future of the country. I'm afraid.
I veered off path here...
The point I was trying to make is that since I question the frequented lethargic nature of kids these days, why don't I question the societal values that led Robert Cawdrey to create the first English dictionary. Why is structured spelling and grammar really necessary? Who says the kids I despise for their spelling and poor usage of commas aren't right in their actions?
Is it possible to not be a hypocrite? Is it possible to not pick sides? to be right?

The wise man is not the one who knows; rather, he's the one who questions.

Pray For The Broken, No One Can Fix Us

People are ignorant, self-amplifying, shamelessly righteous people.

"I know the feeling"
No you don't, bastard. You have NEVER been inside my head in this very time period with these very people in this very situation. Stop saying that and actually think.

People try too hard to relate to others. Do they need to do so? Is it just a nice way of saying "been there, done that". Well, if you really have, let me go through it then. By myself. Without your pompous remarks.

"Don't do that, that's not right"
Burn in hell, you hypocrite. You've done things that you knew full-well weren't right. You want to be the better man in this situation because it's much easier to say hollow words than to not do something you're aching to do, whether right or not. Is it really being righteous, or is it being that imperious, unjustly domineering fuck you know you are.

The guilt will get to you on your deathbed... latest.


Trust me, I've been there.

The World Looks Better When You're Burning.

Why the fuck would you do that? You know how much I hate it. Best friends? Yeah? You can suck my dick for all I care.

You said it so casually as if it shouldn't effect me. After all I've been through with that shit. I've tried it. No one knows that, but I have. She got me to. Don't. I'm lucky I stopped.

I guess I'm done with you then. Cool. That was fun.