I was recently talking to a friend of mine about bands that we considered "ours," and how they got taken away from us when they got popular. My three main choices: Taking Back Sunday, Fall Out Boy, and Say Anything.

I first heard Taking Back Sunday in the summer of 2002, but didn't really get into them until December of that year. I remember my friend driving us to pick up his sister from cheerleading practice in the snow, and I had a dance to go to that night. I was real nervous. But, for some reason or another, "Cute Without the 'E'" came on, and everything seemed to click. My life changed from that point on. "Tell All Your Friends" was an album that defined me, and really submerged me into a music scene that I guess I have gotten out of. I just think back seven years ago and how different everything was, and I can't help to smile. Young and angsty, I guess. I miss it.

Fall Out Boy was a band that I first heard in 2003. "Chicago Is So Two Years Ago" turned me on to clever and tongue-in-cheek lyrics, and made being vengeful and spiteful sound so fun. Their first three albums are still on heavy rotation, and their lyrics still go through my head (ex. "...and when this all goes to hell, will you be able to tell me 'sorry' with a straight face," and "I'm the kinda kid that can't let anything go, and you wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat.") I saw them live in a gym in 2004, and actually met them. They were opening for Sugarcult and they were just hanging out. This was before egos took over and they got radio play, so it was early 2004. God, I miss them.

Say Anything was a band that I first heard in the summer of 2004, but didn't get into until the winter of that year. Max Bemis is a genius, and "...Is A Real Boy" helped me out during a hard time in my life. That album helped get me friends, as we would all talk about how we saw them on their first ever show in Florida, and talk about his lyrics and how crazy he was. I got the CD for Christmas in 2004, and I wore it out. I can still sing every song in its entirety, even though I don't remember the last time I listened to it. I felt such a sense of friendship when my friends and I would sing "Belt" ("so what say you and all your friends meet all of my friends in the alley tonight?"), and I still think back to it whenever I hear it. I remember telling my manager at Hot Topic back then that they were going to be huge...guess I was right.

These are bands that I wish I could have kept as my own little secret, but things never work like that. Those three bands shaped who I am today. Before wrestling took over, music was my love. I hope it goes back to that again someday.


xxx.

My sister is moving to Georgia in little over a week, and it is now dawning on me as to how weird that will be for me. For the past twenty years of my life she has lived with me, so this change, though it is definitely good for her, is going to be very strange for me. There won't be anyone to watch old Nickelodeon commercials on Youtube with at 1am. There won't even be anyone else here up at 1am, for that matter. There won't be anyone to reminisce about random stuff about here all the time, or to go to the store with me late at night when I forget something. I know these things sound really little to most, but it means something to me.

I tell people this a lot, but since my family moved around a lot, we became really close. For a while, we were all we really had. Before we made friends, we would spend all of our time together. Though it was very frustrating at times, looking back, I wouldn't change it for the world. Emily and I got really close due to the fact that we were experiencing new middle schools and high schools together at the same time, so we understood each other as to where we were coming from. So, this is going to be a hard move for me, but I will do my regular gimmick and just be stonefaced. That's how I am, I guess. She's gonna enjoy herself though.

This weekend marks my parents' 25th wedding anniversary, and we are having a big party for both that as well as Em's graduation. 25 years is a long time, and a big feat. To think that my mom was about my age when she moved to Florida and got married boggles my mind. I am so far from that, it can't even compute to me. Being together for this long takes skill. I'm very happy for them.

I listen to Bob Seger a lot. Almost too much.

I keep trying to post a video on here of Arlie and the Hero, but I can't figure it out. I think I'm just going to post it in a different post, and then post this. Here goes nothing.


xxx.

I'm going to Tallahassee this weekend to see some old friends and hopefully clear my head. Every trip to Tally I've made so far has been a good time, and that's what I need right now. A good time with old friends. And maybe tattoos.

Lately, I'm not sure how to think about anything. I hope that goes away soon.

I'm almost done with this semester and I can't wait. Some sort of time off of this schedule would be great.

The New York/MD trip I'm planning would be mid June. I'm just looking for somewhere in NY to house me at the moment. When I can figure that out, I will finally be back in yankee country again. I'm sick of the confederacy.



xxx.

"I lost my mind, and now I'm losing you...so tell me something awesome."

Sometimes, I find out things that make me feel great. They genuinely make me feel like a million bucks. I didn't even do anything, and I feel like I won the war.

I've said it a lot today, but you get what you deserve. You didn't deserve me. I was too good.

Freeeeedommmm. Freedom of bad thoughts. Freedom of sadness. Freedom of anxiety.

I'm yawning out any oxygen that was tainted by my past. In with the new, out with the you.

I'm feeling a trip to Maryland and New York this summer, no doubt. I gotta figure it all out.



xxx.

"I'm not sure if you're worth it, but I'm not ready to call this a night."

The second line in that lyric was the first one I contributed to Arlie. That song with rough vox just came on my iPod and I thought I should share.

So...it is my birthday. The big 2-0. No longer involved in teenager stuff. You guys are all kids.I'm a man's man, now. Thank you to Caity, JD, Shain, Megan, and Brittany for the midnight birthday wishes.

So, Jake, how are you spending your birthday?

I'm glad you asked. I'm waking up at 7am, taking Shannon to the airport, going to class, and then going to work, thus not having any Jake time for my twentieth. Thanks for asking.

I've had some really cool birthday parties in my day. When I turned four, I believe, my mom made me a wrestling ring cake with the Warlord and Mountie figures on it. I loved it.

In kindergarten, I had an awesome party at the Imagination Station in Jupiter.

In fifth grade I had an awesome surprise party that I had no idea about. Thirty little prepubescent kids running around a pool. That was one of my favorites.

On my 16th birthday, some of the best friends a person could ask for threw me a surprise party. I was still the new kid, so that really was great for me. I'm forever in debt.

For my 18th, I went to Five Points with Trish and Caity, went to an art festival with Luke, met Brittany's dad, and had a little party. That was a lot of fun.

Last year, I worked.

This year? I work.

Something is wrong with this picture.



xxx.

I tell people this a lot, but it's true: when I was a little kid, all I really had was wrestling and music. Those have been the two main constants in my life. So, every year, I'd wait around for Wrestlemania, as it really was the "grandaddy of them all." Especially before all the In Your House ppvs started, Wrestlemania was the one major event in sports entertainment.

I remember when they rereleased the Wrestlemanias on VHS, and how happy I was to finally get 2, 3, 4, and 5. I would watch them all the time. That was around 1999, and at that time, being a ten year old that loved that wasn't very cool. Being a twenty year old and loving that stuff now isn't very cool either, though.

Two years ago was the first time I had actually sat and watched a Wrestlemania since WM14 in 1998, meaning in the nine years from '98 to '07, the most recent one I had seen was 14. That is ridiculous.

I ordered WM25 tonight and now I am completely regretting my decision. The negatives about this show outweigh the positives. In fact, to me, the only positives were Ricky Steamboat (who was just incredible), the HBK/Taker match even though the falsies killed the crowd, and the Steve Austin segment. The main and semi-main were nothing special at all.

Have I grown out of Wrestlemania, or has it grown out of me?

I'm exhausted.


xxx.

I'm at the Saratoga Springs hotel sitting on the bed after taking a nice, much needed shower. Paco is on the next bed on his Sidekick. We are the technology communication age.

Long, busy, fun day in Lake Buena Vista. Woke up and drove down with some friends in the car, and experienced some great conversations.

We got to the hotel and played some Rock Band before going out to the Magic Kingdom. The Magic Kingdom during the day is a nightmare. Millions of people everywhere, and none of them know where they are going/what they are doing. I guess I was one of them, but still. We went to Splash Mountain which was a lot scarier than I remembered. I don't mean to sound like some jabrone, but for real. It was unpleasant. Hit up It's A Small World and maybe something else (I don't remember), and went back to the hotel for food.

Went back to the park at around seven and it was just phenomenal. The amount of people there was almost cut in half, the weather was nice, and everyone was in much better spirits. I finally rode all three mountains in a day, but I gotta say, I hated Space Mountain. Hearing all the creaks of the track, and being in total darkness, made me feel like I was in hell. But, now I can say I did it.

I had a lot of fun today, and I'm dreading going back to the real world.



xxx.

I should be sleeping because I gotta be up to go to Disney in a couple of hours. I'm excited but nervous at the same time. Some people that were supposed to come can't make it, and it kind of bums me out. But the friends that are coming mean a lot to me, and I don't want to take advantage of it.

Today, Shannon and I took a quick little road trip down to Gainesville, and it was pretty enjoyable. I hadn't listened to bands like Casey Jones and Set Your Goals in a while, so it was nostalgic to me when he put them on.

I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. I have this really weird feeling of anxiety and fear, and I'm not sure where to go from here.I just wish that certain people would care more about stuff. It breaks my heart.

I'm listening to Atmosphere's "You Can't Imagine How Much Fun We're Having" album. I loved this a lot.I still love it. I think it really showed what he is capable of. His newest album reinforces it.

I don't have a lot to say today, I guess. I'm just feeling weird for whatever reason.




xxx.

Shannon helps me think that, hey, maybe I'm not crazy. Which, in essence, is keeping me sane.

I'm glad he's in town. Had a nice day with him and Nate, which included hitting up the town center and then Times Grill. Shannon and I then did some brodown type stuff, talked about girls and tattoos, talked about music, and now I'm heading to sleep.

Busy weekend ahead of me. Tomorrow I'm making a quick road trip down to Gainesville to pick up Stephanie, and then who knows. Either Rock Band or a tattoo. I'm still undecided, I guess.

I may just wait until I can get up to MD so Shannon could give me one. But who knows the next time I will be there?

Time for me to be hitting the ol' dusty trail.



xxx.

Tonight I'm listening to the Gaslight Anthem's "The Senor and the Queen." Not for much longer though, because it is only four songs long. I don't know how I became such a big fan of this band, it just kind of happened. I heard about them on NPR at some point last year and it went on from there. I like that they can use words like "senorita" and "casanova" and genuinely make it work.

I don't think I did anything of major importance today, besides hanging out with Trish. I hadn't seen her since New Year's Eve, which is odd. She used to basically live at my house, so for her to not be around anymore is still weird to me.it has been this way for a while.

Shannon comes into town tomorrow afternoon, and I'm stoked about it. I haven't seen him since summer 2007 when Countermind came to town, and that visit was too short for my liking. He's staying until my birthday, and I'm definitely happy about it.

I wanna go get a tattoo this weekend, but I'm not sure where to go to get what I want. I'd like to get a chest piece, but what I'd get means a lot to me, so I just can't get some random skeezeball to do it. I don't know. I will figure something else. I just always seem to get a tattoo around this time of year.

Now I'm listening to the Format's "Interventions & Lullabies" album. Lots of good memories go hand in hand with the Format. Whether it is singing "Dog Problems" with Bo in Mr. Franke's class senior year, or going to their show with Brittany, Luke, and Shelby. They are a band for me that I could just continuously listen to and quote over and over and over. I'm such a fanboy sometimes.

I changed the name of my blog. I really want to get more people than just AV reading it, though I thank you for reading it nonetheless.




xxx.

Over the past four days, it has been raining in Florida a lot. Lots more than it has been, at least. If April showers really do bring May flowers, then expect a ton of pilgrims in the fifth month. I'm so clever, I know. The rain was so bad after work tonight that I had to take a shortcut around the block to Best Buy, because I could hardly see the road. So, I sat in their parking lot, sending a few "be safe" messages, checking my email, whatever. It finally let up, but even then, the roads were atrocious.

I've taken plenty of English and film classes to know that rain is always a symbol of some form of 'rebirth.' A revitalizing experience of sorts. It is supposed to refresh you, cleanse you, etc. Florida must really need some reshaping.

The reason I bring all of this up, is driving home from Crystal River, we hit some really bad weather. Bad to the point where lightning was happening in five second intervals, and I was going 15 under the speed limit.

But, on the drive home, I talked to JD and we were talking about the situation I was in, and why I really wanted to get back to JAX. After getting it all out, and hearing his perspective, it made me realize what I was doing. It was like a part of my brain decided to show up and join the party. I felt new. I felt ready for the future. Sure, what happened still hurt me, but I realized that I can handle it. Because I didn't do anything wrong for once!

The rain this evening started not too long after talking to Nate, and gaining more confidence in myself and the future. More cleansing of my past feelings. I'm liking this trend.

So here I lay in my bed once again, this time listening to Ryan Adams' "Heartbreaker" album. I haven't listened to it in a long time. It has the song that Caity and I used to call ours on it, but I will probably fall asleep before it comes on. I kind of want to listen to the rain.

So does anybody read this blog? And, if so, can you let me know please? I don't care who you are. Thanks.


xxx.

So she was overwhelmed by the thought of me. I thought that could have potentially been a good thing. We could have potentially been a good thing. But, that's okay. Not enough harm done for me to raise an eyebrow at the situation. Let my guard down for the first time in a while. I had some sort of trust in all of this. It's (ti)me against the world. And that's something I don't have to raise an eyebrow at either.

So here I am, laying in bed, listening to Jimmy Eat World. I used to listen to "Clarity" to fall asleep when I first moved to Jacksonville because it relaxed me. Now I listen to it to get any sort of emotion I can. I'm only on the second track, but I can't say I'm getting much. I just turned up the volume. Maybe that will help. I love the line, "From one excuse to the other," because of the different meanings it can take on. Are you saying excuse after excuse? Or am I calling ourselves excuses?

So I'm turning 20 in a couple of days, but I still feel like I'm 13. Is there a point in life where you feel your age? When I was 13, I felt 20. Is it possible to become more naïve the more you age? If that's not possible, then I guess I don't necessarily know what I'm doing. I'm going against the grain. I've grown up a lot, but I still feel like such a child. I need to move away.

I'm just trying to keep typing and seeing what exactly comes out. I think I have fat fingers because I keep pressing buttons on my Blackberry that I don't mean to press. I'd keep the mistakes but my fingers are too quick. They are very Jackie Chan. Do you think that Jackie Chan is quick in real life? I will have to look into that. I don't think so, though.

So I got ahead of myself and made her think that I wanted more than I did. I think this is all ridiculous, but I can't blame her. We have a history. Or a herstory. Maybe an ourstory. And while all of those stories have the same outcome, she can't deny what she has felt over the past little while. She's not a liar, which is a good thing. I was just talking to my friend, and I told him that I was back at square one. We decided that we hated square one, as well as any person that has somehow gotten off that square and onto another.

"Can you still feel those butterflies?" I did for the first time in years. Now I don't. What happened to those proverbial butterflies? I think they flew out when my jaw dropped in disbelief. Sometimes, life doesn't make sense.

I think this blog entry is long enough. Still have a lot on my chest, but I don't want to get myself in trouble.


xxx.

Sike. I fell for it.

"...and if you're scared of the future tonight, we can take it each hour one at a time. It's a pretty good night for a drive, so dry off those eyes, and dry off those eyes. Because the radio's still playing loud, songs that we heard as our guards came down. Like in the summer time when we first met. I'll never forget, don't you ever forget: these nights are still ours."

Hope I got that right. Hope I get this right. I never do. I'm trying as hard as I can, but I don't know if that's helping. I wanna give up but at the same time, this means too much to me.

So I found the old Arlie demos with no vocals and for whatever reason, I've been listening to them lately. I kind of want to record over them, but, you know, I'm not very good at that whole singing thing.I think that's what's stopping me. When the whole band thing stopped, I got really down on myself for not being good. We'll see. I miss being in front of people performing though. That's for sure.

Speaking of music, I've been listening to a lot of it lately. The Ergs!, Bomb the Music Industry!, Against Me!, and other bands with exclamation points have been at the top of my iTunes. I didn't realize that both of those bands had that punctuation, and now I feel like a goof. Besides those three, I've been listening to a lot of Gaslight Anthem, and I feel like a Saves the Day kick is coming up. Springtime is great Saves the Day weather.

Man, I wish I still had a Spring Break. I forget what that's like. Even a summer for that matter. I'm too young to be working full time. I'm missing out on life in my opinion. Let me be bored every now and again! I don't want to be busy every second that I'm awake! Come on, man!


xxx.

DROP THE BOMB.

"...but I need you! Can't you see that?" I yelled, but she thinks she's got me figured out. She thinks I'm see-through; she thinks I'm glass. Little does she know that I'm tinted. I'm the one fooling this time. Doesn't she know that I am the connoisseur of one-liners and one night stands? You can't work a worker, and you can't outthink someone who hasn’t for years.

She smiled that smile that would go great in L.A., but nowhere else. You know: the cigarette-smoked, coffee-stained, blood curdling, beautiful, sparkling, movie star-esque smile. It’s the type of smile where you either want to choke her, or run before she chokes you. Typically, I wait it out.

"Lauren, are you even listening to me anymore?" I proclaimed, already predicting my answer from a mile away. She saw the blink. There is no way around it.

The funny thing is I was never like this before. I was very run of the mill. My underwear used to have "Sage" written on every tag (it’s a nickname. My mother calls my Paul. My father doesn’t call me much), my socks had X's on them to know which ones are mine. I did the same thing every day, just to make sure I was still alive. I went through the motions until I got motion sickness; then I did it again.

But that one nihilist of the female race changed me, and I want it back. She owes me a pen for my undergarments, coffee and a cigarette for every single morning, and a good thousand hours of sleep.

Morrissey used to write about girls like you. He wrote albums just thinking about girls like you. You made him famous. You made him money. How dare you! Who do you think you are? Where are my royalties?

The difference between me and him is that I am real. I am talking from the heart; he is talking from the Walkman, the mp3 player, the iPod, or whatever other hipster electronic music device you have. I am talking from that abyss in my chest, the one that you had no problem deserting.

I always remembered how to spell "dessert" from "desert", because you always want two helpings of "dessert", which contains two S's. But, after much thought, being deserted twice wouldn't hurt so badly.

I used to spread gossip around the school about you. The handwriting on the bathroom door was mine. I couldn’t believe that you never found out…apparently your mascara went to your brain.

Or maybe the smoke made a thick layer covering it.

Or maybe the tight jeans cut off any circulation you had.

Or maybe you just aren’t as bright as I gave you credit for.

The idea of you and me couldn’t have ever happened. Let’s be real, here. We’d be one half eloquently beautiful, and ¼ love disabled. The other ¼ I’ll leave up to the imagination.

I remember when you walked in that night. You were the stereotypical gorgeous female, wearing her stereotypical gorgeous dress, walking in her stereotypical gorgeous style. Then, there’s me. You know, that one boy that just kind of stands there? Too dignified to be a loner, but not even cool enough to be a wallflower.

You left as quickly as you came in. And then, even before the door shut behind you, you were back again. Where are you now, darling? If history is repeating itself, I’d love to give Big Ben a piece of my dirty little mind. I’d love to tell him how he’s ruining that little speck of patience I had left, and once it’s gone, he will pay for it in blood.

Or time.

If all this is is a game, then call me a cheater. Call me a crook. Call me anything you want. I will play Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun, but the gentleman I am, I will let you go first. Don’t thank me, it’s only common courtesy.

It was at a Christmas party on December 21, 2003, and little old me, I was just waiting for something disastrous to happen. I was just waiting for someone to walk through the blizzard going on outside and come steal my heart. I was just waiting for someone to take off their coat, walk up to me, and say "I’ve been just waiting for you my entire life. Take me now; I’m yours." I wish I were still just waiting.

We started off with some small talk.

"Hey, I’ve seen you around before."

"Really, top honors in your class? Congratulations!"

"You’ve had that muscle in my chest since you came here. Let’s go."

Okay, maybe the last one didn’t happen, but it should have. There’s a more than likely chance that it would’ve scared you away, and none of this would’ve happened. Right now, I would’ve been sipping coffee loaded with sugar, watching late night infomercials while faking happiness.

Instead, I’m sitting here at a bus stop in downtown Baltimore, contemplating getting on or not. It’s a new game I play: "To Ride Or Not To Ride". I’m a modern-day Shakespeare, I know, you don’t have to tell me.

I’ve started writing this diary of sorts in hope that you will one day find it and get a look into that sick little head of mine. Actually, if I had the capacity to put down everything in my head, psychiatrists would want to study me. I’d be a neuroscientist’s dream.

Anne Frank named her diary "Kitty". I will name this one "Jaguar", because I’m not as innocent as she was. That poor girl went through hell and back during World War 2, and here I am, whining and crying because a little girl broke my little heart.

Boo hoo.

I remember when we drove to Clemson, South Carolina in March 2004, just because we could. We had the senioritis mindset, and we couldn’t be proven wrong. We rode with the windows down because we wanted to be free. We were free.

"Ugh, this song reminds me of my ex. Turn it off, please," you said about The Beach Boys’ "God Only Knows".

Little did you know, I put that song especially on this mix because it reminded me of you. The score is now Lauren – 1, Sage – 0.

In Clemson, we didn’t know anybody; just the way we wanted it. We were nothing more than a couple of tourists. You were nothing more than an arrogant woman with an agenda to fulfill. I was nothing more than a fool in love. Scoreboard? Lauren – 2 Sage – 0.

I made you a mix tape a month before you ended us. You ended us. I don’t remember much of it, except that I began it with The Beatles’ "Eight Days A Week" and ended it with Ryan Adams’ "Come Pick Me Up". I remember it took me two weeks to put both sides in complete order, without having any sort of awkward silences between songs. I walked by your house the other day and saw it in your front seat. The score is now Lauren – 2, Sage – 1.

On August 15, 2004, you asked me where I saw myself in ten years.

"Right here with you in my arms, celebrating the ten year anniversary of you asking me this question", I responded quickly.

This cunning hero only got a chuckle out of you, but that’s not what I was aiming for. I bet by now that you’ve heard through the grapevine that I was half-serious about my answer. Okay, more like 75% serious, but either way, I wasn’t lying. And you laughed. What the hell was I supposed to do in that situation? Honestly, back me up against a wall, why don’t you? So, I laughed with you. I played it off like it didn’t mean anything to me. But it did. But you did. Ladies and gentleman, Lauren has just scored one million points, and I don’t believe that this game is going to go in the favor of Sage. From all of us here, goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Jaguar, I fear that someday, I will never find someone as great as she was. The way the Christmas lights reflected off her eyes, or the way her hand always found mine. The one problem I always had with that was that they never fit together. I consider handholding to be much like a puzzle. Our hands were never able to piece together. I guess I really don’t have to worry about that much now, huh?

So, here I am, still sitting at that same Baltimore bus stop on this beautiful, stormy day. I think I’ll ride today, like I thought I’d ride for the past month. I always have to keep myself on my toes. I consider myself a Forrest Gump of sorts; except for the box of chocolates (I’m allergic) and the wise sayings (I’m allergic). But, I do enjoy sitting here, and I’m really not too bad at Ping-Pong. I also want to run across the country someday, and if I don’t die, it’d be a beautiful experience.

Lauren, I’m writing this because I don’t know what to say whenever we talk in person. On those rare occasions when we do talk, that is. I should by now, though, considering phone calls from you always go the same route.

"Hello?"

"…Hi,"

"What do you need?" This is where I put on my tough-guy voice. Such a man’s man.

"We need to talk."

"I think you’ve said enough."

"But…"

*CLICK*

If phone conversations were a talent competition, I’d be William Hung. That’s for sure.

I remember waking up to an ambulance speeding by my apartment complex. When you hear sirens and hope to God it’s for you, you know you’ve met the gutter life. But, I found that it wasn’t for me, but it was for little old Mrs. Judy Karan down the hall in 14B (they say it’s 14B, but it’s really 13B. We all know it, we just don’t like to say it). Don’t worry, she’s fine. I just hate that old people always seem to take my glory away from me. You’re old enough to have had the attention before, Mrs. Karan! Andy Warhol claimed that everyone has their fifteen minutes of fame, so damn it, why couldn’t you let me have mine? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s fine. I just think that she did it for the attention. She spilled that water that she was probably using to make her morning tea and she slipped on it. What a conniving old hag!

I drove down to Annapolis today just to walk around the harbor and feel the history. I drove down there, and all I felt was carsick. I don’t mean to sound cynical, because I love this city. But, I always seem to hype it more than I should. I always imagine this beautiful scene, with bare trees and white grounds, with the brisk air whipping my face. But, it’s August, and it’s so hot that even fire is afraid to go outside; for fear that it would sweat.

Past the hair hanging in my eyes, all I seem to notice are all of the lonely people there. I saw maybe two couples holding hands, but it wasn’t in a loving manner at all. It seemed more dysfunctional and depressing than it did loving. I saw these pleasant, lonely people, and it seemed like they had not a care in the world. Then, a light bulb went off in my head. I don’t need you, Lauren. I don’t need you one bit. To me, you aren’t my air anymore. You’re more like the IRS; everyone tries to avoid you until you go after them.

Lauren, what I’m trying to say is that I’m done beating myself up over what could’ve been. Would of, could of, should have. I’m just so sick of being down about you. I’m young, willing, and able. I’ve never needed you; I’ve only thought that I needed someone to be someone. I am someone. Well, at least I’m going to be someone. Watch out for me all over television someday. Notorious or famous by my own means, I will be famous none-the-less. Besides, I have nothing better to do.

So, Jaguar, this is the end of our friendship. I’ve laughed with you, I’ve done a fair share of crying with you, and without you, I don’t think I’d be here right now. Jag, I’m leaving you at the bus stop just so someone can find you and maybe you’ll help them out like you did me. A wise man once said, "Confidence is key."

I would love to shake his hand, and say, "Thank you for everything. You help me more than you’ll ever know."

Final score: Sage – freedom, Lauren – loneliness.

I love how if I talk to an old friend, and I tell them I'm not really into the music scene anymore, I always get some sort of shocked reaction. Like I was once on top of it all or something.

Granted, I did bring the backwards belt movement to BTHS in 10th grade.I also brought the spiked bracelets movement to WHMS in 7th grade. I guess you gotta take the good with the bad.

I made a mix called "Four Bands I Used to Be Really Into," and it is just songs by Underoath, mewithoutYou, the Chariot, and Norma Jean. I should have called it, "How In The Hell Didn't I Get Struck By Lightning While Listening to Christian Music?"

Ed, since you might read this, do you know yet if you're gonna be home this summer? Because I have the urge to play a show. I almost just wrote "playa show," which should be my new nickname.

I'm just delirious now.



xxx.

"I kept your picture just behind the eye, those weeks when our distance grew.
Drove north where I found you waiting in Des Moines - thank God I'm not losing
you.
And girl, I hope you're not alone - and sleep through this weather.
And girl, I hope you're whole again - back home we'll sleep better.

We collide, and onward we do fly."

- The Anniversary, "The D In Detroit"



That song takes me right back to 8th grade.




xxx.

I take my finger, turn into a pen.
Then, I run my hand down your spine.
You guess I wrote something profound,
Something like:"Our love will last 'til we die."
I say, "You're good at this game."
But, what I really wrote is: "How I've yet to be saved"

- The Format, "Dead End"


I listen to the Format a lot when I travel. It's not the most masculine of music, sure, but it keeps me awake. I can sing along to every song, which in itself is a difficult task for an album to accomplish. I have really good memories involving both of their albums, and seeing them live was a great experience. Shame they broke up.

I had a super busy weekend, as Ring of Honor came back to Florida. Last year when I got to work the show, it was nervewracking. I was so excited. This time, the glitz and glamour had faded, and it was just like any other show. I worked ROH in Coral Springs on Friday, Fusion in Ft. Pierce on Saturday, and FIP in Brooksville on Sunday. If you don't live in Florida, then I guess you don't realize how crazy those drives are. For me personally, from leaving JAX to coming back, I probably spent about sixteen hours altogether in a car just driving around from Friday thru Sunday.

I just wanna congratulate my boy Jon Davis on really proving himself to the ROH crowds this weekend, and killing himself in the process. This guy eats and sleeps this business, and there is nobody that deserves it more than him. Kudos also to Kory Chavis, the Lions, Brad, Shawn, FIMH, and any other FL guy that made their debut. This state is booming, and I'm glad I'm a small part of it.



xxx.