I have never been able to remember my dreams.

Ever since I was really young, I have told people that I just don't dream. Of course, that's a complete lie, but it sounded cooler than telling people that I can never remember them. I can remember a handful of dreams over the past two decades, one involving Hulk Hogan on a motorcycle coming to my house when I was three or four. Nothing I say makes sense.

Over the weekend, I had a dream that I remember still, which may not seem like a big deal, but it is to me.

In this dream, I died. I don't know how I died, and I don't know why I died. All I know is that I died, and I was reincarnated into myself at age 12. I don't understand it at all, but dreams that are understandable aren't fun to look back on.

I remember talking to everyone that I was around in my dream, and telling them how I had passed away, but it was really me inside this body. I was scrambling to get to a pen and piece of paper to write down everything that I could remember from my past, because I didn't want to lose it. I wanted to hang onto every last thing from my past life that I could before my new life kicked in and gave me a clean slate.

The two things I remember writing down: The Gaslight Anthem's "Great Expectations" and the name of the love of my life. I think her name was Amanda. I hate to disappoint any Amandas, but I don't think I've ever fallen in love with any of you. Maybe it's foreshadowing. See you in the future, Amanda.

I just remember being so afraid that I would forget everything from my past in this new life I was given, as if the future wouldn't ever compare. I think that's how I have been feeling for the past few years, which is why I kept trying to hang onto every old friend I had. It's silly to pretend like the people I've met over the past year or two can't compare to friends of the past. I'm just a sucker for nostalgia.




xxx.

"...But you were pretty cool. And I daresay you still are. But you were such a cliche, in an adorable 'I'm to cool for you highschool lame-o's' kind of way. 'Who the fuck wants to be happy anyway?' Boy, you used those lyrics nearly to death. But in the best possible way."

"One thing has never changed-there's your heart, right there on your sleeve. Why, I can see it all the way here in Maryland...So you were a bit pompous, maybe looked down your nose at one too many people. You most likely excluded some people that you could consider friends, but chances are, a lot of them weren't all that anyway."


These were taken from a conversation earlier today with an old friend that knew me better than I thought they did. It almost rendered me speechless. I hope they don't mind that I posted this. I did it because it means something to me.

I have a tendency to call people out on everything they do wrong. It's part of my (c)harm. I don't mean to do it necessarily, but it just happens. The problem here, besides hurting other people's feelings, is that I cannot take it in return.

Every receipt I had coming to me for things I have said to people really effects me more than it should. I take everything that people say to heart, even if I lead on like it doesn't bother me. I don't know why I do it, I just have a tendency to genuinely care more than I should.

Should I change, or should the world?



xxx.

I just want to find something that fits.

Fits into my schedule. Fits into my brain. Fits into my heart. Fits into my lifestyle.

Something that means as much to me as the other person involved.

Something that won't leave me so paranoid that it will go away.

I don't know what's good for me anymore. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I want. I don't know if that's all a bad thing.

Are you gonna stick around?



xxx.

I'm a big fan of Jeff Rosenstock.


xxx.

I'm reading through an old writing journal of mine from 2005/2006, and I've come to the conclusion that either: A) I was so much cooler back then; or B) I was a pretentious prick.

Reading this stuff, I realize that a lot of it really isn't that bad. It's not revolutionary, but it's not bad. You can tell that I was listening to a lot of Fall Out Boy at the time, because I was trying to make puns and plays on words. I tried so hard to be different, but all it made me was the same as everyone else.

"And though you may not know it, I'm the reason why you dream. While you lie in bed and think of me, know nothing's as it seems."

That just screams arrogance. I love it. I wish I still had that and believed it.

"This hand writes all the shit I just can't pretend."

I wrote love poems, too. That's something I don't think I have done since then. I told a friend of mine the other day that I am better at writing feigned sadness because I grew up on country music. That was a realization I made as I was talking to her.

I was young. I was in love. I was as reckless as a scared, straight edge boy could be. I was wide-eyed. I was bushy-tailed. I was intelligent. I was egotistical. I was trying to be a carbon copy of Pete Wentz, with a little bit of Max Bemis, and a whole lot of Hey Chris. I was what I wanted to be, but didn't realize it until years later.

I need to find whatever it was that was making me write how I used to. Whether it's listening to Fall Out Boy and Say Anything nonstop, or watching hours of The OC, I am in dire need of my muse.




xxx.

This is what professional wrestling needs again.




xxx.

"Time Bomb"

It has been said that you must hit rock bottom before you are able to bounce back. I have officially found out how far down rock bottom is:

It's right below finding out that everything you thought you knew about someone has been a lie.

Imagine sharing five years with a significant other. Imagine sharing thoughts with this person. Imagine sharing dreams with this person. Imagine sharing secrets. Goals. Your heart. Imagine sharing your most important (or so I once believed) years with this fucking person, just to have everything change in a day.

Was it worth it?

Ultimately, I never knew I signed up for this. I didn't realize you were on a timer, set to explode with the truth someday. I was happy being so ignorant, and ignoring all the signs that were thrown at me.

All the signs that I wish I could call you out on now, so I wouldn't be where I am (fighting sleep and thoughts while driving around some city I couldn't care less about.)

Yes, I know we all have our problems. Of course. Do they realize how serious yours were? Or that you only tell people about them when you were lacking attention? No matter how hard you try, you're not an 18 year old "tortured artist."

My problem, you ask? My problem was you.

Was it worth it?

So you said it "relieved tension." I say that you can't go even a minute without being the spotlight.

Who is this new guy, anyway? Does he know about me? Did you tell him anything about your past, besides these scars that you once kept clandestine?

This is the bouncing back I need. This is my renewal. You can have your new friends. You can have their drug addiction, as well as all of your baggage back. I'm throwing all the memories, all the feelings I had for you away.

What you and I once referred to as "making love" will now just be my greeting card to any attractive female I meet along the way. I don't care what that makes me, or what that makes them for that matter. Whatever it takes to get you out of my head is what has to be done.

It's like you were just in time to wreck my life. I've never been much of an architect past LEGOs, but you knocked this all down faster than the castles I made when I was eight. It's time to build a better foundation. Huff and puff all you want, this house will no longer be blown down. Not just by you, but by anyone.

Was it worth what you did to your wrists?





xxx.

Type. Select. Erase.
Type. Select. Erase.
Type. Select. Erase.
Type. Select. Erase.

This is my current trend in writing these blogs:

Type. Select. Erase.

Sometimes, I wish everything in life was able to be deleted this easily.

Type. Select. Erase.

It's not so much writer's block as it is a kinked hose. Too much is going on in my head.

Type. Select. Erase.

I'm gonna get all of this right someday.

Type. Select. Erase.

You can't believe how much I erased from this. I can't believe it either.

Type. Select. Erase.



xxx.
(type. select. erase.)

If there are any two shirts I'd love to re-own, it's these two:







Someone point me in their direction. Thanks.



xxx.

"When a boy writes off the world, it's done in sloppy, misspelled words. If a girl writes off the world, it's done in cursive. I'm searching for her."





xxx.

I hope there is somebody out there that is a lot like Anna. She has always been the epitome of perfection for me...is that weird? Is it weird that, even though this song and episode both have completely different meaning to me these days, I still hold this close to my heart?

Call me what you will, but if there's an Anna out there, I'm going to find her, and she won't be another notch in my belt.

She's better than that.





xxx.

I wish I could tell you how many songs you ruined for me. But, that's okay. I'll still listen. I just have an empty feeling in my gut when they come on.




xxx.

I am happy. For the first time in a long time, I can say that for the time being, I'm happy and stress-free. This time around, I'm doing things my way.

I'm going out and meeting new people. I'm down 30+ pounds thanks to the encouragement of my friends. I'm fitting into shirts I haven't worn in years. I'm loving it.

I have hopes for the future these days. I don't know where I want to be, but I know who I want to be. I'm not the same kid that would get torn down at the drop of a hat. Thick skin and a brain has finally come into play.

Living well is my best revenge to all of those I have lost. I didn't need you, anyway.

Here's to those still around. Those that didn't run. Those that are there for me. Those that let me crash on their floor/couch. Those that call me out on my bullshit. Those that would rather be bored with me than bored alone. Those that travel with me. Those that let me tag along. Those that respond to late night/early morning texts. Those that let me complain. Those that I can call my friend and absolutely mean without a shadow of a doubt.

You are the people I owe everything to. Blood is thicker than water, but I swear that my water isn't something to scoff at.



xxx.

Sometimes you just gotta kill 'em with kindness.



xxx.

"But, you'll probably hate her now. You know, she's just a name. But, with smoke in her hair, I could still smell how sweet she would be to kiss. And we talked about nothing until she had to go. Where second chances and small talk could have kept me up all night. 'Cause it gets only close enough so you'll know you'll never have her heart. Just sometimes words and long waits inbetween, when she tries hard to be mean. You'll never have her heart...this time."

Lifetime: "Francie Nolan"

Sometimes, I rediscover bands and albums. Sometimes, I rediscover bands with logos I have permanently inked into my skin. Lifetime is that band.

I encourage everyone to go out and buy their album "Jersey's Best Dancers," or at least read the lyrics. Without them, there would be no Fall Out Boy. No Taking Back Sunday. No Saves the Day. There probably wouldn't be the same kid typing this very entry.

Ari Katz had a way with words. He didn't try to sugarcoat how he felt. He made it known that he was going through something, and did it in a way that made his fans relate.

My freshman year of college, I used to play their album, "Hello Bastards," on their way to class. Fast, gritty punk rock with a melodic twist and clever lyrics.

Next time you see the tattoo on my forearm, ask me about the inspiration behind it. Lifetime shaped me to be who I am today. It's funny to say that because they are just a band...and, besides a quick little reunion, they broke up before I even hit puberty.

But, while friends, relationships, and hobbies have come and gone, music has always been there for me. My headphones have shared more with me than anything else, and I like it that way.


xxx.

There are so many things I wish I could say to people, but I know I never will.

So, much like a Hallmark card, pick one of these statements, and think I'm actually saying it to you.

- I think you're missing an opportunity that you might regret.
- Your boyfriend weirds me out.
- I wish you wouldn't drink so much.
- Don't lose what you have right now. This is the best thing to ever happen to you.
- I think your weight is unhealthy.
- I wish we still talked. I miss those late nights.
- You complain too much.
- Stop running away. What you're leaving is worth the butterflies.
- Make music with me.
- I miss you more than you know.
- I apologize for never being around. I will come visit someday.
- If you're unhappy, why are you not making changes?
- Those weekends were fun. Thank you.
- Thank you for always letting me crash at your house. That's always the best part.
- I know we hadn't talked since voting, but your death really, really shook me up. I hope you're okay, and I wish I was able to talk to you again.
- You should have given me a chance.
- You need medication.
- Stop trying to fit in. You look stupid.
- I treasure the time we spent together, but I don't think I could ever do it again.
- You have too much talent to be so unmotivated.
- I wish you hadn't fallen apart.
- I'm gonna be somebody someday. Just believe in me.



Take your pick.

xxx.

The video has nothing to do with the song, but I love the song a lot. I need to be in a band again. I have too much to say, and not enough talent on my own to express it.



xxx.

Like I said in my previous post, at least I can say that I gave it my best shot.

Sometimes, I get too ahead of myself. When I really want something, I submerge myself in it fully. I forgot who I was dealing with this time around.

Here's to the future, here's to the past.

Let's see where I can go from here.


xxx.

All it takes for me is one song to spark a memory in my brain. All it takes is one song, one scent, one glance at scenery. All it takes is one seemingly trivial thing to start a snowball effect, leaving me feeling overwhelmed and compelled to write at the end.

All it took was listening to "Graduation Day" by Head Automatica at work the other evening.

I got to thinking about where I was when I first got into that song (I remember standing at the car wash, telling Nate how the album had leaked online, and how excited I was), and how it came out the summer before my big senior year of high school.

From there, I went to think of senior class songs, and how typically cliche they always are. Being the South, the popular one is, of course, "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Then, of course, there's "Here's To The Night" by Eve 6, that one Vitamin C song, and others. Same shit, different year.

The Bartram Trail class of 2007 broke that mold. We had "Can't Touch This" by MC Hammer.

At the time, I remember thinking how obviously stupid this was. I probably thought I was too cool for that, or that it should have been some hip, underground song that nobody had heard that should have been chosen. But, looking back, I think it described us as a whole: unique. Every single person I knew had a unique personality, whether I liked it or not. We were arrogant pricks. We were too smart for our own good. We were young. We were dumb. We were (not) ready for whatever the world had to throw at us.

Then, I thought about how I've had two years to reflect on that single year of my life. I know it doesn't seem like a long time, but a lot can happen in two years, and, in fact, it has. The Jake from two years ago is no longer the Jake sitting in front of this very laptop.

I've made a lot of mistakes in the past two years. I've lost people I shouldn't, and I've hurt people I never meant to. I'm still trying to pick up the pieces from an important relationship I've lost, and I regret the past every single day. You know who you are.

I've lost a majority of the friends I had, and it is my fault. I decided to travel every weekend and miss a lot back home. I spent so much time chasing my dream that I was too blind to see what I was leaving in the dust.

I've met a lot of great people in the past two years in wrestling, and have made a group of close friends that I wouldn't trade for anything. I've worked all over Florida, been published in magazines and on DVD covers, as well as websites. I've made hundreds of memories, and hope for many more.

But, I miss my old life. Somewhere along the line, I forgot how young I was. I decided to forget that I was 18 when I started in wrestling, and I've always acted older than I really was. I'm not even old enough to buy alcohol.

For as much as I love wrestling, and I love my friends involved in it, not working a show until August 22nd is a godsend for me. I'm trying to reconnect with people here, as well as trying my ass off to rekindle something that I want. If it doesn't happen, then at least it can end knowing that I gave it my best shot.

I know this got jumbled along the way, but this is how my mind works. What started with a song ended with me sharing my regrets with life.

No wonder why I think I'm losing my mind.



xxx.

"You keep the ring, I'll keep the Saturdays in bed."


This song just keeps popping up sporadically over the last two years.


This is my 100th post, and nothing has changed.