The Cold Part

I feel tired but very happy. I went on a super-cool adventure today, and had the time of my life with people I'm very enthusiastic about spending time with. I ate the worst sucker of my life, and failed in an attempt to pet a deer, although I got very close to it. Also, I went to Toy Story 3, and I really enjoyed it. Today was just overall a very nice experience that everyone should be able to have every once in a while.


Then why on Earth do I feel so antsy! GAH! This is so irritating. I feel like something is going to blow up, but I don't know what
grumble grumble


Hopefully this thing will go a way by tomorrow

Smooches

Waiting can be Hell.
That doesn't mean that it isn't worth it though.
Not by a long shot.

Anyone who says dreaming or hope is waste of time needs to get with it.
...Anyways, suffice it to say, I'm fantastically happy right now.
I feel like dancing

Home at last

YAAAAAA!!! THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE THEY'RE HERE THEY'RE HERE!!!! I'M SO EXCITED THIS IS CRAZY! NEARLY SIX MONTHS OF WAITING IS FINALLY OVER! I JUST WANNA GO FIGHT A BEAR OR RUN A RACE OR SOMETHING I'M SO STOKED FOR EVERYTHING FOREVER!

LIFE IS AWESOME!

Please Follow Me

This week I saw OK GO and Mariana's Trench live in concert (I got punched for a drumstick at OK GO), I performed in front of the Prime Minister, got dead last in a marching competition, went to the hot springs on Banff, and had a great time there. Also, a girl who I think may have been slightly high told me I was like an older brother to her, and that was a little bit weird... whatever though. You play with the cards that you're dealt, right?

Life is good right now. Skies are blue, sun is bright, and for seventeen days my world is about to be perfect.

P.S. My bag and new shirts are FINALLY here. This is a very nice thing to have happen to me.

Thirty-six hours left. Thirty-six too many.

Off-White

We did it, baby! The long nights, and trying fantasies... but we did it. Against all odds we did it. All the promises we made all those years ago are coming true again and again. It really was only just a matter of time, wasn't it?

I love you Lily
Always and forever
9 days.
That's all
Nine

Book 'o' Love Poems

If there's anything I've learned as a writer and as a romantic, it's that there's no way that you can win a girls heart with prose.

Camping

Woo going camping woo be back on Tuesday night woo.

It's all in the Eye of the Beholder

No. I've never had to put my faith in the music or the teachings of others. The way I see it, it's just a way of telling a story. Don't get me wrong, I love the sounds, and some of the stories have gone so far as to become a part of me, and what I am to the wold.

But that's just it. They're only stories. Poems, prose, anecdotal evidence of a rainbow of emotions and ideas.

The group themselves mean nearly nothing to me. Naturally, what they do is important, and how they do it is too, but really, when push comes to shove, to me, it isn't real. Another form of escape and fantasy, not far from books of video games.

It helps sometimes. An escape is an escape, and music is a wonderfully raw form of emotion for an artist, much like photography, but applying itself to the spirit in a much more processable way. It's beautiful, and science.

A chord is a chord no matter how it's strummed, or in what context, 4/4, 9/8, or 7/2. Minor, major, third, fourth, fifth, it's all the same. It doesn't matter.

The only time it does is when it's me.

To me, my own creation is perfect. It's not as well crafted, or as skilled or touching as millions of others, but it's looking in my mirror, and finding a perfect reflection of past and future. They say an artist is the sum of his creations, but really, it's a backwards equation. The creation is derived from the artist.
And that's what musicians are dying to share.

There's a reason I've been fighting to get studio time for three years, or that I'll jump at any opportunity to play my guitar in public, even on a park bench on a lonely autumn morning. We want to share our lives, our love, our pain, pride, joy, lust, and everything in between. We want to share what we've done. It's something special to us when people tell us we can relate, or how they might feel that we understand what they are.

But really, we don't.

Less than three

Marching band is an exhausting thing.

I swear, you spend years and years marching around on field, but you never totally get used to it. You get better, and you don't get as tired, and it even comes to the point where the other member of the band will even look up to you, come to you for advice, or even just watch the moves you make, how you carry yourself, and how your eyes look, and try to model themselves after you... that is, until they maybe figure out that you have no idea what in the hell you're doing.

Really, love is the exact same way.

You know it's there, and you don't deny that the effect of it is something very real, but you'll never understand it. People will fall in love, maybe around you, with you, or even just the notion of you... maybe you'll fall in love too. You'll break rules, challenge standards, swings fists and generally raise Hell all in the name of protecting it, until you realize that it wasn't something to protect, that you were the one being abused, or that you had got so caught up in protecting it that your perfect diamond had reverted back to a bitter lump of coal.

You'll be told that it was coal all along, and you know that they were right, but it still hurts, and you aren't any closer to understanding it, or more importantly, understanding yourself.

And we all know the next part: The one we pray for by night, and live for by day. The radiant dawn... the angel.

A chance comes, and for whatever reason, you take it. You go out on a limb, forget about the past and jump

If you're lucky, the angel you thought was looking at you will catch you... but you realize one last thing in the process. She was falling too. You saved each other from your own fears, and along the way, dreams came true