I'm Feeling Near As Faded As My Jeans

There are certain books that I could read over and over again. Some of them I know so well that I can just skip around to my favorite parts. These include:

The Giver-Lois Lowry

The Realm of Possibility-David Levithan

The Reader-Bernhard Schlink

The Outsiders-S.E. Hinton

Fight Club-Chuck Palahniuk

Wide Awake-David Levithan

A Clockwork Orange-Anthony Burgess

House of Leaves-Mark Z Danielewski

Only Revolutions-Mark Z Danielewski

Heavier Than Heaven-Charles R. Cross

The Catcher In The Rye-J.D. Salinger

Wonder Boys-Michael Chabon

Killing Yourself To Live-Chuck Klosterman

Dharma Bums-Jack Kerouac

On The Road-Jack Kerouac

Love Is A Mixtape-Rob Sheffield

Passion is a Fashion-Pat Gilbert

There are a thousand more, but those are the ones I thought of off the top of my head. And I loves them all.

I Am The Red In The Rose

I am the grey in the ghost hiding with your clothes behind your closet door...

It's a green green green day.

and you haven't truly experienced color

until you've seen green on a day like this.

If you go chasing rabbits and you know you're going to fall...

I am evolved.

I am involved.

I am in love.

I am alive.

There was a beautiful backyard. A huge tree sprawled its branches across the blanketed blue sky and pale pink blossoms rained into our hair. Deeper into the trees there was a shack, big enough to sit in but too small to stand up straight. It was nice of them, but too dark, too much shifting. It felt like the film was coming off the reel. Cigarette burns flashing by and you and I walked out. Driving, driving, windows down, Jim Morrison serenading our expanded minds and you and I, we drove. Walking for miles down a dirt path, we spoke of things that made up our personal atoms. The electrons and protons and the rhapsody that was the nucleus of our worlds. A great, white log hung out over the stream and you and I, we dangled our feet in the cold, cold water. I wont go back. I sit in plush chairs, staring out enormous windows, hazy, but crystalline, sometimes drawing, always listening. I discover new things in the sound, in the velvet, crushing, caressing of the notes. And I know I'll never go back to before.

But then again...

Some things haven't changed at all, have they?
A two hour roadtrip to see the town where Dave Grohl was born,
and it couldn't have been made with anyone better than you.

Make way for ducklings!

Just like old times,
laughing loud over nothing
and talking seriously about everything.
And, damn, but we look good in Burger King crowns.

Growing Up Sucks

Sometimes I wish I were what I was when I wished I were what I am now.
We are not the people we were.
And while change should
usually be made the most of,
most of
this change just
stingsburnsachespullstearsthrobspressesstabsandtwists
Hurts.
But
The growing pains of this life
are often the opportunities of the next.

Just

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck you all.

It's Still Rock and Roll To Me

I'm all silly and happy right now.

Toeing the line between nostalgia

and living wholeheartedly for the moment.

It's nice.

Friday night Mike and I stayed at my house. We...

-Built an epic pillow fort out of every

pillow and blanket we could find.

-Put on a photoshoot while wearing

stick on moustaches we found in a quarter machine.

-Had a dance party around midnight.

-Stayed up late and talked,

and fell asleep together in our fort.

We were supposed to work Saturday morning

but the museum was closed because of the snow storm.

So we stayed under the covers all morning

and ate pepperoni rolls for breakfast.

I'm afraid he bought me too much for Valentine's Day. I couldn't afford much because I didn't get to work for over a month. But his gift is still really good, I think. So he shouldn't mind. He's also made reservations at somewhere fancy for dinner. He won't tell me where, just to dress up. I think he's gonna blindfold me on the way there so I can't tell where we're going.

This isn't artsy or anything. Just me catching up with myself.

Darling.

You are beautiful.
You are determined.
You are strong.
You are loved.
You are talented.
You are wanted.
You are you.

April 25, 2009

One of the happiest days of my life.

Three of the best people in my life and I,

piled into a car called Monty.

We bought subs and harassed Jack at work.

We kicked off the journey to Jesus of Suburbia.

Epic.

That giant freaking moose in that yard;
tell me you remember?

And defiling a mansion, just because we could,

and there were no other cars on the road.

We waded in a creek and Mike fell.

He had to go commando in a pair of Blaine's pants,

and Blaine and I had to hold up towels because the boy had already

exposed himself to the world once, whilst peeing by the side of the road.

My shorts got soaked and I wore a blanket I found in the trunk as a skirt.

It's still in my room, along with that swimming polo.

The one that Blaine got so pissed at me over, because

I bit a hole through it accidentally.

We listened to acoustic songs the entire ride home,

exhausted.

We drove an extra five blocks

just to finish Wonderwall.

When we got back to the attic we collapsed in a pile

and took a nap.

Mike, Sam, Blaine, Ange-Jack showed up at some point.

I think he tried to wrestle people?

I was half asleep. So content.

One of those perfectly peaceful days. The ones where you don't wanna shower the next morning, cause you just can't stand the thought of washing yesterday out of your hair.

My Muse

I'm getting my first tattoo soon. It's a lyric from one of my favorite songs of all time: "Starlight," by Muse:

You electrify my life, let's conspire to ignite all the souls that would die just to feel alive.

I'm gonna have it going down my spine in a Courier-typewriter sort of print. And I'm excited in a big way.

In Inches, In Miles, In Laughter, In Strife

I looked at my blog posts from a year ago. Starting from the tenth of January until about the middle of February almost every single one I wrote was about a certain individual in my life.

It all started with an art field trip to an exhibit called Life On Mars. I spent the entire day with my best friend. The entire day we joked and flirted and basically opened the door for a whole slew of feelings that neither of us were prepared to deal with. By the end of the bus ride home we were curled up in the seat together, our fingers lightly intertwined. Later he would tell me that if we hadn't been in front of so many people he probably would have kissed me right then and there. I wished he would've anyway.

We hugged tightly before we parted and promised each other that we would find a way to get together the next day, to work the whole situation out.

Needless to say, we worked it out.

To make a rather long story short, here we are, 12 months later. 12 months. 525,600 minutes (so what if I only know that because of RENT?). 1,000,000 hours in the car. 10 billion stars. 1,000 stupid arguments. 1,000 sincere apologies. 8 mixtapes. 6 CD slots. 4 houses. 4 beds. 2 showers. 2 living rooms. 2 dining rooms. 1 kitchen. 1 attic. 1 vacation. 1 new ceiling. 1 adventure book. 2 crazy, retarded, very much in love kids. 1 insane journey. 1 insane year.

And many more to come.

A Ditty For The Back of a Napkin

I'm giving up my walking shoes

as the wind and the waves wash away my blues,

You help me lose track of time.

Rock and roll, you're holding me,

rocking in your arms by a rolling sea

It was easy making up my mind.

I can see forever in your eyes.