A Final Song, A Last Request, A Perfect Chapter Laid to Rest

Mood:  incredible.
Hating:  that the weekend is over.
Loving:  friends, music, inspiration.
Lip-syncing:  Avenged Sevenfold -- So Far Away
Quote of the Day:  "Now and then I try to find a place in my mind where you can stay, you can stay awake forever."

------

Coming back from Heavy MTL was just inspiring. It was an incredible weekend filled with people, booze, craziness, and most of all, music. I won't get into the minuet details of my trip to Montreal, but I will share how absolutely amazing Avenged Sevenfold was. Their first show without Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan, their drummer, and they couldn't have been more extraordinary.

I wish I could just spend time gushing about Alice Cooper, Slayer, Rob Zombie, Korn, Hatebreed, and the other insane bands/artists that performed, but that would take way too long. Instead, I'll simply post what I managed to scribble down on the way back home.

All for the love of music <3

Drummer's Kick

I hear the beat like nothing else
The bass in the right
the slam from the left
Your hands pound through the music
like angels playing me lullabies
The electric pulse sends my knees beating
like a never ending lecture of foes
Take what you've learned
and prove what you know
The lessons learned through practice and notes
Full of love and hatred for fellow man

Whole notes held just long enough
to feel your heart beating
Now I can't quit tapping my feet
in hopes you'll notice I'm keeping time
Trying to rock out to a song your soul hasn't fully found yet

I sit in a familiar place
Full of memories of the way it used to be
All glistening smiles as if time has never passed
A chunk of me the size of last night's drunken mistakes
belongs here, to you for always

You have a drummer's kick about you
Consistently moving and shaking with the beat
Arms flying as if to tell me I have my own personal angel

You have no idea how much your sound has blessed the non-believers
They're all listening to the cries of the drum bass kick

Plug in your headphones
Let the waves of sound wash over
As if they were made from the skin of your enemies

I see those instruments in the corner
The corner where we forgot old beer bottles
And the nights we can't remember but still try to forget

You connection has rhythm
Friends have soul
Our family's created through rock and roll
So I shift to drop D
answering your beat with my strings
Tell me what you really think of me
But let's play a major note to depict where I come from now
Haven't you noticed the changes in my grin?

There's nothing else more important
Then the weaving together of friends for the perfect life song.

I'll Sleep When I Am Dead

Mood:  ...
Hating:  the heat. No, that's a lie; I hate the humidity.
Loving:  friends, who have become family by choice.
Lip-syncing:  City and Colour (ft. Gordon Downie) -- Sleeping Sickness
Quote of the Day:  "Women want to enjoy the process, while men just want to get to the destination."

------

With the end of the Toronto Pride week being smothered in heat and humidity, I find myself contemplating inclusion. It's so easy to say what's wrong, to talk about change, to promise you'll be there for someone. But when push comes to shove, you truly learn who cares and loves.

I won't get into the debate of homosexuality and what not. That is not what's on my mind today. Social rights and civil movements are always of interest to me, but lately my personal life has taken some rather dramatic twists. Although I do not post regularly enough as it is, I figured I'd take a second to just write that I'm not sure when the next time I will post is.

Writing, art, music; they're all linked. And since I couldn't find the words to pen myself, here is a song that's disturbingly accurate in describing my life. Enjoy. And wish me luck.

Sleeping Sickness
City and Colour ft. Gordon Downie (from the Tragically Hip)

I awoke
Only to find my lungs empty
And through the night
So it seems I'm not breathing
And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be
And I'm breaking down, I think I'm breaking down

And I'm afraid
To sleep because of what haunts me
Such as living with the uncertainty
That I'll never find the words to say
Which would completely explain
Just how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now it's like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?

I've become
A simple souvenir of someone's kill
And like the sea
I'm constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole
oh, how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now it's like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?
Ooooohhh my life

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Could it be this misery will suffice?

Sing With Me, If It's Just for Today

Mood:
Hating:  working a min. wage job, trying to save money.
Loving:  friends.
Lip-syncing:  Aerosmith -- Dream On
Quote of the day:  " '...and then they came to the place where land and ocean meet.' I shall never call it a beach again."

------

Amen.

Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World?

Mood: saddened, contemplative, and as always, tired...
Hating:  tattoo pains haha
Loving:  the ocean.
Lip-syncing:  Snow Patrol -- Chasing Cars

------

When someone passes on….what does it mean?

The word "pass"; we use it everyday. I pass people on campus, I pass people on the street. Does it mean because I just pass" them they have no importance?

When I think of passing I think of someone with the probability of never seeing walk by again, wave or greet you again, but when we pass on does it go unnoticed like the people we don’t remember from the street or campus?

I don't quite know how to say how I feel.


It just never really made sense to me. To me the word "pass", is more a gentle way of putting something that doesn’t need to be softened, it is a way of life…life something that will soon enough be taken away. But why do we run in fear from it?

It’s just like asking why we cry with pain when someone dies or leaves us. Are we scared of their faces fading? Their legend going unnoticed? Not being able to have a conversation with that loved one again?

What seems to pass us everyday is the fact that none of that is taken away. No one believes enough in belief itself to see that. When we shed tears about not being able to see our loved ones happy face…you are potentially selling yourselves short, if you can remember that they once had a smile upon there face, you can see it again, for it is not the human figure but the memory that leaves us feeling warm

I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

When you are little and cry at sleepovers because you miss your mom or dad, maybe it is not because they are not physically there but because you may not remember just how they tuck you in, or just the way they smell when they kiss you good night. It is the loss of memory of the little things that make us sad.

Passing on, or leaving, has no meaning other then the fact that their human figure no longer carries body heat, no longer walks around the streets with emotion in their eyes.

Forget what we're told, before we get too old...

Passing on is just finally being able to fly, being able to walk through doors, and jump through windows. Passing on is being able to be free without feeling physical pain. When we pass on , we in reality, have everything we ever dreamed of, everything if you look down inside is found when it is your right time to leave.

We strive for the time we are here to be something remarkable, but the truth is, dead or alive, someone will remember you. Even if you were that beautiful person who was merely “passed” on the street corner one day. We shall not shed any more tears for those who have passed on because they are more with us then maybe the ones who we see every day. Why do you think you cry when you sleep over at that old friend's house, or your grandparent’s house? It’s because the people who are here living…don’t have that same memory as the people who have passed on.

When you are off in one of those moments trying to remember their faces, their smell or the sound of their voice, don’t try too hard. They are there. You just need to listen. They listen to you… it's your turn. Dream about them, write about them, sing about them, and how much you love the fact that they are still here in spirit, which is so much stronger then human form.

Because the truth is, spirits never die.

May You Never Be Broken Again

Mood: tired...stupid insomnia.
Hating: school, work, schoolwork.
Loving:  I believe creativity and inspiration only strikes when I'm procrastinating...
Lip-syncing: Alter Bridge -- Blackbird
Quote of the day:  "I'm pretty sure I'm not eating a burrito for the atmosphere. Yeah, definitely not."

------

These are our streets
The rain slicked pavements,
Peeling paint
Into eternity.

Stiff-necked streetlights
Only illuminate the evidence,
Or lack thereof
Of a coming revolution.

And yet here we stand
Hands clasped in prayer,
Our ineffectual vigil
To the victims taken by these streets.

But can you feel it?



Manifesto.

They Will Buy You and Sell You For Celebrity Status

Mood:  bored out of my mind.
Hating:  0/3 essays, 1/2 final presentations and one major assignment to finish.
Loving:  ...if I throw myself off a five story building, I wouldn't have to do the schoolwork, right?
Lip-syncing:  Marianas Trench -- Celebrity Status
Quote of the day:  "The bra:  tit and bit holder."


------

Alright. So who actually pays attention in class? There are much more entertaining things to occupy your mind.

"I pray at the church of asses in the seat."

I'm a pretty sardonic person. Almost everyone I know can attest to this. Although physical humour can be absolutely hilarious, I specialize more in words. I'll admit, I'm pretty easily entertained. However, my tongue can be rather sharp at times, but mostly my snide comments are just meant for a little teasing.

And no one is above a little teasing.

Being famous means having pictures of you plastered left and right, available for anyone's use. Yes, I abuse that privilege. Here are some of my favourite artists with some rather amusing captions.

They get better, I promise... I just really like this picture.

I fear only my fellow theatre geeks will understand this one...

Tee-hee-hee, this speaks for itself, I think.

Alas, I can't claim this next one as my own, but it brings a good chuckle. Thanks Lynn!

This is one of my favourites...

The next two go together.

And by request, here are a couple of my favourite Synyster Gates ones.

And this is what I do in class. And what I do instead of completing school work. What a great use of thousands of dollars of tuition money.