28 and now no one is proud
of the things that they let happen
the things they turned a blind eye to
the quiet alone acoustic kind of memories
golden
laughing
stupid
free.
now what?
(Source: wayoutofsync)
Standing next to me’s a Nazi and there’s a shiver slithering slipping ‘round my arms
Everybody thinks I’m crazy
But I’m a different person when I’m all by myself
And a thousand different other people
Around everyone else
$185 dollar RL sweater for $70 - I never spend a lot of money on clothes so I didn’t feel too bad splurging and spending my Christmas money on it because it’s really thick and warm and awesome and amazing.
War Horse was really good, different from the play (both good/bad at times) but still good.
The play was still better, definitely go see it if you ever get the chance!
frustration on top of anger and more frustration.
one of my best friends from home came up and we drank and went up to the dance at the dome (solely for the free t-shirts) and I almost got in a fight with some student ambassador punk when he started giving me shit about taking some chi-fil-a chicken with me. honestly, how can you expect an intoxicated me to not take so free chicken with me for the road (or, as I called it last night, “roadchicken”) and the only reason I was taking it with me was because they didn’t have fucking ketchup for me to dip it in, and you can’t expect a sober me, let alone a drucken me to eat chic-fil-a withut ketchup.
so then we came back and just hung out and made a delicious platter of roadchicken and soft pretzels and gorged ourselves with my friend Ashley and went for a nice walk with a cigar. we got back to Oak and then were prompted to go to Michael’s, so we trekked up there (in my Boba Fett hoodie, roaddrink in hand) and had some more deliciousness and came back and crashed.
good evening, tonight should be excellent as well.
denim jackets & marlboro reds
chevy blazers & chocolate labs
flannel shirts & shotgun shells
sleeping with pumpkins & black cats in old houses
arranging the village & bikes without riders
hanging stuffed bodies & setting up lights
thanksgiving traffic & serving up liquor
caramel apples & fallen leaves
football games & scrounging up pennies
forgetting guitar & giving it up
accidents & all the lies
the coming cold & the crawling back
homecoming dances & the cold shoulder
fickle freshman & new first kisses
I’m failing physics & fuck, where am I going?
dreading january & learning to love
my first time & all of the blood
AMC marathons & nights in libraries
art museum afternoons & now they all hate me
(Source: wayoutofsync)
I miss Europe & being in love
I miss the holes in the finger of my glove
and I hate every single high school rhyme
about what I thought was love & the passing of time
and I try to make jokes
about my stupid self
about my stupid life
but I’m not Andy or Anthony
and I’m certainly not Matt Berninger
I’m just me
and all the decisions I’ve made
and no lost, forlorn teenaged soul will ever idolize me
or find solace in my words
and I wouldn’t know if they did anyway
because as much as I might want to
as much as I might need to
I’m not special, Ace
and I’m not Aces, Ackley Kid
I’m just Dan.
and that’s all I’ll ever be
we get to the Electric Factory at 1:30, just like the email about the soundcheck said to be.
2 o’clock rolls around and we are told by a member of the venue staff that they cannot soundcheck until around 5. all of us waiting are pretty pissed.
so we wait, and wait, and wait, and I go ge Kandice and I food, and we wait some more, and my friend Erica from home finally shows up, and we proceed to wait and catch up on the past few months that we haven’t really seen each other.
then, around 5:30, we are finally let in
the band played three or four songs, including Holding Someone’s Hair Back, and joked around and hung out with us.
then Anthony was like, “Does anyone know how to sing Living Together?” since it is one of my favourite songs to dance around my room singing, I of course shot my hand up and Anthony picked me to come up and sing it with the band. and he loved my costume and gave me a high five and numerous compliments throughout the night.
When the band started playing, however, I suddenly realized that my mind was completely void of any and all lyrics, but then, in the nick of time, I remembered every word and sang them all with perfect timing. The gravity of the situation didn’t really sink in until after, and I realized, “Holy shit, I just got to sing one of my favourite songs, on stage, with one of my favourite bands!”
after that we just hung around with the band and got our signed posters, and I got the screen print of the event specific poster (Which will be framed shortly and is fucking incredible) and finally got myself a Circa hakey (sp?) sack. Bredan came up out of nowhere and just started chatting us up and we talked to Anthony (who told us some really exciting details about Beautiful Things, Young Legs, and other future releases of his)
then we went back out and waited to be let inside, first 8-), and rushed up to be front and center.
then they started letting the douchebags in.
the show started off fine, the first band kinda sucked, but whatever, then during Sleeper Agent people started smoke, rolling, and pushing. not moshing, jamming, rocking out, or dancing, just pushing. I have no clue why pushing somehow enhances your concert-viewing experience, but I guess for those assholes it did.
By the time we were waiting for Circa to go on stage Erica has to leave because she was freaking out and some five-foot-nothing Jersey Shore wannabe muscly jackass and his friends literally just pushed me and two other people from our positions against the barriers, back into the crowd. This particular asshat then tried to talk to ma about how great it was that we were both up front at a Circa show, and seemed to not realize I was insulting him the entire time we spoke.
The security guards, who seemed to take pleasure in watching the many people who needed to be lifted out in pain, originally berated douchebag & co. for wedging myself and others out of the way, but then stopped caring and just watched. as he pushed me out of the way, slamming his arms into my neck and such, I brought my elbow down on his fat little head. The big, bad NES security guard then came up and started screaming at me and giving me all sorts of shit, as though he had not seen what pieces of shit lil’ quido and his buddies were.
About one song into Circa’s set, I looked back and could not see Kandice anywhere, and when I finally spotted the top of her head beneath a bunch of people I pushed both people in front of her out of the way and picked her up and as the NEW assholes laughed at her, I lifted her out of the crowd, all while saving her shoes as well. I then fought my way back through the crowd and found both Erica & Kandice and enjoyed the rest of the concert from the middle of the crowd.
I have never been to a Circa show with so many douchebags. First of all, half of them didn’t even know the newer songs, and had to keep smoking the entire time. I enjoy smoking and drinking as much as the next guy, but I don’t need to do it to have an incredible time at a Circa show. There is simply no reason. The more the people smoked and rolled and whatever, the worse they got. They were simply so fucking rude I could not believe it. Granted, there were some really sweet, really nice people there and many times girls kept apologizing for being smashed into me, even though it was not their fault in the slightest bit.
All in all, it was a fucking incredible day/night. I can’t wait for Anthony’s solo tour next year (I didn’t just say that) and look forward to shows not in one of the worst venues in Philly and with far less assholes.
it’s a shame it took a broken heart
to make you into a human being
but I know that it won’t last
the most beautiful blonde eyed, blue haired girl you’ve ever seen
with the most genuinely fake smile
nothing satisfies me anyway
nothing’s ever good enough
yes, yes, that’s it
I do it all to hurt you
every word is crafted to inflict as much pain possible
everything I say and do must have something to do with you.
9.14.11
2am confessional
so she can crumble in my arms
looking good and knowing it
the peaking corner of a picture behind my ID reminds me
of the summer and age old friendships
barely years ago
what kind of life is that to live
when you can’t even look each other in the eye
you hated her for months and only open your mouth now
rifles with numbers and letter
as if that education has an relevance at the other end
virgins never die
except when they go first
desperately seeking sympathy
only to find nothing on the other side of the screen
just because it’s the title of an album, doesn’t mean that’s really how it is spelled
one kills everything she fucks
one fucks everything she kills
which is worse?
I guess we all do in our own way
literally or just in our minds
or in their minds for that matter
forget hunger and thirst
I’ll dry up and shatter before I put an end to this
you go hang yourself, I’m fine standing right here with nothing around my neck
except for tokens of love and unbuttoned collars
jangly old time piano to remind you of your father and his sister
both the belated and the living cunt
no consoles and no consolation
three mouths, two eyes, and a fantastic head of hair
just more holes to fill I suppose, and she’ll have no problem doing that…
see, toldja it would be my next title.
as usual this is just the scraping together of various scribblings of the past week.
input is, as always, much appreciated.
did you really think you’d make it out alive?
stop as soon as you start, stop again and again and again
you missed your chance
good luck next time
I said, good day, sir
and then the blood starts
and the warm water
and then the water stops
but the blood keeps on coming
there’s a difference
you just don’t see
stained on the sidewalk
steal it the second it hits you
steal it before they can see
soundtracks for the summer
computer corrected make it too perfect for sure
metal on skin and bone and wires
blood and copper do not mix
steel and tears do not make bodies
tar and feathers do not keep you warm
make sure you are tied together
and all the tendons and cables are in place
before it takes flight and you burn up in the rain
so much weather
so much nature
so much everything
where’m I going?
where’ve I been
make sure I tell everyone
just so everybody knows how great I am
and all the things I’ve done and seen
watching waiting hunting
for another chance to make myself known
before it’s lost inside the open flames
no one cares about Swedish fast food restaurants
or German whistles in corner stores
or Welsh seagulls on train tracks south of Spain
no one cares
so just shut up
and take your own advice, for once.
haven’t posted anything on the ol’ poetry portal for some time, but just jotted this down. let me know whatja think
I don’t care what you say about me online
‘cause you won’t say shit to my face
and I know you won’t, because you didn’t .
so, go ahead and complain about me all you want,
take pictures of yourself that no one wants to look at,
and contradict every word you’ve ever said with every whining, bitchy little rant,
‘cause no one cares.
no, no one gives a damn
about your shitty job ‘cause, ya know, we’ve all got one, too
you’re not special or better or worse off than the rest
in fact you’ve got it pretty good.
and you’re everything that those bands you love so much mock
and you’re too all about yourself to even notice.
