post #8

I was watching a concert on TV today, because I'm a music freak and that's what I do. But in all seriousness, it made me think and feel more than I ever have in months. No one will ever, and I mean ever, understand what music means to me. I'm not even sure if I fully understand myself. All I know is that music came to me in my time of need. It has failed me, as all earthly things have, but I have no doubts it's the best tangible thing on the planet. 

The combination of instruments, melodies, and words is the closest thing to perfect in this horribly imperfect world. So perfect, that it's mere existence can cause an utter downpour of emotions that I can't even express in words. I wish I could, I wish I could copy and paste my emotions onto a page, so everyone could understand, but I just can't. 

Thing is, the reason why I was feeling so much, was because I was watching the band that started everything for me. They've been a band for nearly 20 years now, and I think it's safe to say that their music has changed the punk genre forever, and is the blatant definition of 21st century punk music. If you even vaguely know about music, you could probably guess who this band is just from those details. So I watched them play live today, and I felt so much nostalgia. This band was my first taste of punk, the first taste of rebellion. It started everything. 

I'm certainly not the biggest fan of this band. I don't know all the words to their songs, and I haven't listened to all their albums. They were always too punk, too grunge, too raw for my tastes. But none of that could lessen what I felt today. Nothing could lessen my gratitude, either.   

post #7

Oh my goodness, you guys. I think I might be even more of a creep than I thought possible. Thing is, I didn't mean to be. It was totally an accident, I promise.

Well, anyways, I was walking into school about 10-15 minutes ago. I was walking through the door, and a little girl that I recognized was holding the door for me. I said thank you, she said you're welcome, it was all very pleasant. Then she mumbled a comment, saying I looked nice.  And you see... I thought I knew this girl. Well. I might know her. She looked really, really similar to another little girl I know... but she may or may not be that girl. Anywho, back to the story.

So, me, being totally stupid and creepy and not thinking before I say things, said, "You look nice, too. You always look nice." Then I heard her mumble thank you. But I couldn't tell if it was a creeped-out tone or a normal, shy person tone. Guys, I might have just told a complete stranger that they always look nice. Which means I'm always looking at them. Always. Oh my gosh I can't even handle my own level of creepy. Just imagine being a little girl, in between 4th-6th grade, thinking that they're always being watched. I don't know about you, but I'd be twitchy. Really twitchy. But then again, I was really twitchy in elementary school already.

So, I'm hoping for one of two options.
1. The girl truly was the one I recognized and she took what I said as a compliment.
2. I never, ever come across this little girl again, and she isn't as mentally scarred about this situation as I am. Poor thing has enough to deal with in elementary/middle school.

post #6

Blooming relationships.
It should have been me.
Trying to ignore me.
Trying to make you angry.
Everything I say, you ignore.
Really, I'm not bitter.

post #5

THIS... is a meme appreciation post.

Memes are beautiful things. To explain them in simplest terms, they are smart, funny internet jokes, that are usually relatable to internet people. The meme above, Socially Awkward Penguin, is basically my entire life in the form of memes (with the exception of a few sketch ones I've seen). There are tons of other funny ones, like Philosoraptor... and a bunch that I can't remember.

I like memes. And I will possibly write more about them in the future.

Get excited.

post #4

Sometimes I really, really want to plagiarize.

Did I get your attention?

Ha, probably not.

But really though. Really.

Just listen to Dangerous Blues by The Young Veins. You'll understand my psychotic need to take every. single. word. of. this. song.

"What makes a crowd turn away from a tune?
I've never bloomed such a beautiful blues."

Why is this song not mine. Really now.

I'm pretty sure this whole words thing is entirely opinion-based. Maybe you won't be compelled to plagiarize when you listen to that song. But I do. And my opinion totally matters not really.

Well, anyway, my final thoughts on plagiarism: it's very, very, very tempting, but very wrong. Don't do it, kids.

post #3

Noxious fumes.
Brilliant hues.
Precision.
Mistakes are made.
Mistakes are corrected.
Easy to remove, these certain mistakes.
I admire my work.
Wiggling fingers, wiggling toes.
My nails are painted blue.

post #2

I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING TO WRITE STOP PRESSURING ME.

okay never mind i'll think of something.

so um, you know how you have those herpy derpy moments in life and you just stare off into the distance for, well, eternity? and you know how during those moments someone is staring directly into your eyes and you don't notice because you're herpin' and derpin' it? and then you're staring into each other's eyes (you're blissfully unaware, the other person probably terrorized and questioning your sanity), and you suddenly become aware that you're a human being and you find yourself staring. and they're still staring. and then, finally, you do what any person with proper creepy staring etiquette would do... look away as abruptly and dramatically as possible.
and though this all feels like slow motion, this entire process happens in a span of a few seconds.

know what i'm talking about?

yeah, well, that's the only thing my puny brain has been capable of this week.

i think everyone's scared of me now.

post #1

i've been trying to write, but lately my muse has been really, really lame and unhelpful. thing is, i'm pretty sure the reason why i can't write anything with any substance these days is because nothing's going on in my life right now. nothing interesting, at least. i go to school, i come home and complain about school, i do homework, i eat, i sleep. that's all. even on weekends, nothing happens. i usually just spend my day mindlessly surfing the internet. there's a car honking outside. i hope it stops soon. it did. oh, it started again. someone really needs to do something about that. it's really distracting me from my writing. oh my gosh it's not stopping. the honking is going to go on fore- okay it stopped. i'm going to stop writing before it starts again.

here, have a dapper cat:

good day, fine sirs and madams.