Concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

Im glad Im going to New York alone again this year.

Im glad Im going to Italy for 2 weeks alone this year too...

Cus if you know me, you know how much I love being alone

I had a dream...

Nobody left for me I fear.

Who will be standing next to me?

Theres no one left.

Heads up, damage control.

I'm not trying to sound so insincere

but the postcard that's taped to the freezer reads:

"Wish you were here."

How I wish I could disappear.

I'm not smiling

behind this fake veneer.

I am often interrupted

or completely ignored

but most of all I'm bored.

"I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave. "

Grey Skies

"Sometimes the past is something you just can't let go of. And sometimes the past is something we'll do anything to forget. And sometimes we learn something new about the past that changes everything we know about the present."

had another bad dream again.

cancercancercancercancercancer

He loves you like it’s tearing him apart.

I'm a lucky soul to have these memories

I will always hold them as a part of me

Live your life, I hope you find meaning

Past through but on the way you taught me

To remember who we are when we're apart

Bonus Mosh Pt.2

If you cant take the mosh pit

Stay out of the concert.

I hate it when girls go to a ROCK concert and complain about the mosh pushing against them.
Or being smashed into some random guy next to them.
Its a fuckin concert.
If you cant handle it, dont go.
If you expect to just walk in and everyone has their own little designated area, maybe a rock show isnt for you.
If your a bitch and dont at least acknowledge a co headliner...go away, no one wants you there.
Its not just one persons show, and you have to deal with it. Wheather that means making fun of them in the lobby, or actually going along with them. Whatever just dont knock em before youve even heard them thats a bitch move.

I’m running out of sympathy

and I never said I’d take this

I never said I'd take this lying down

You must not know bout me. Part 2

I get to Saint Vincent for my interview at 3 15.
After running around the entire campus I finally tracked down their manager, Ward.
Of course after running into half of All American Rejects and Eddie Ryes of Taking Back Sunday.
So he walkes me outside. And there he is.

Matt Rubano.

A man I have loved since I was 13. I thought he was an amazing bassist even then. And truth be told Sarah was an Adam fan...I was a Matt fan.

We talked. And talked. And talked. An interview that was supposed to be 15 minutes turned into a half hour. It was amazing.

What was even more amazing. I wasnt nervous. My voice didnt shake. I was calm. I didnt burst into flames. I was a professional fan.

So I returned to the venue for the concert at 7. And picked up my photo pass.

I walked into the venue and bopped to the music playing over the speakers.

Then all of the sudden I hear, "Hey! Glad you could make it."

Fuckin Matt Rubano picked me out of a crowd. Gave me a high five and was having a conversation with Christian and I about bassits and how he loved the fans. Of course I shared I loved him back. Probably stupid but. Whatever.

I took over 100 photos from in front of the pit.

Adam Lazzara brushed me twice on his way to climb the side of the bleachers.

Yeah. Today was one of those days.

Im proud of me.

If your not...thats ok.

Because I dont care.

Im fuckin proud of something Ive accomplished

And ya know what?

Thats never happened before.

You must not know bout me. Part 1

There are days you wake up and have a goal.
Today was my goal. Probably one of my biggest days ever...besides the Green Day show.
In study hall I went to Stallings room. She tells me this:
"You have passion. You have perseverance and responsibility. You set a goal and stuck to it til you achieved it. I think you should be writing more for Serendipity. You really have a talent for this. Have you thought of college?"

Ah yes the ever famous college question. I told her Ohio University because of its Journalism program. And because I would be close to Alternative Press Magazine's publishing building...and that's where I want to work.
That's the goal. The big picture. The dream.

"I want to connect you to a writer I know who works for AP magazine. And also I want you to apply to Ohio University and Point Park if you want to stay in Pittsburgh."

My future was planned out in front of me in two seconds flat. The scary part is. The things she was saying. Ive never wanted anything more.

And if the future and my success wasn't enough to think about. I was interviewing a member of Taking Back Sunday in 6 hours.

Shes called to other skies.

David Farmerie said if you wanted to be a journalist, you had to make it the air in your lungs.

Thats. What Im going to do.

And I can't get enough.

Theres an episode of That 70s Show where Eric wishes he never had Donna.

Long story short at the end of the episode he sees that he was better to have had her.

And these images and memories start flashing in his head.

These great heartfelt memories that make me cry everytime.

Gives me chills.

I had one of those moments.

Memories.

Flooded me

Things youve probably long forgotten.

Things that probably ment nothing to you.

Things that ment the world to me.

"Wait. No. I want to keep it. Please, just . . . let me keep it."

Between the trees.

What would you say if

I told you that I'm not giving up

However long it takes.

I dont even know what to write

You cant even begin to understand me.

My thoughts are going at a thousand miles an hour

But all I keep coming back to is that one moment

When you...

I swear Im like an elephant.

I forget nothing.

Sometimes it hurts like all hell to remember.

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?

I can't hold it back you see

I know it all comes back to me

You must have practiced hard to be

So far away

Never wanted me to show

Just write me off

I let you go

And now there's more for you to know

So far away

You're not the same

You've changed

I don't need you anyway

You're not the person that I believed in yesterday

Wait until the bombs drop.

Things feel different.
I don't know how to explain it.
I feel alone. You know it. Ive told you.

Into the ocean

End it all.

Fully clothed I locked the door from my empty house.
Placing the paper far enough away, I inhaled.
I filled up the bath tub.
Something clicked and I raised my head.
Instead I drained the water and sat down.
I cried.
I knew I needed to let go of something.
I would have been perfectly happy to let it go if the pain in my chest would stop...
I just didn't know what it was I had to let go.

Childhood

Innocence

Knowledge

Euphoria

Abuse

Past

Present

Insanity

Paranoia

Loneliness.

Loneliness.
Flooding memories.
Remembering places and times and emotion.
Images plague my mind.
I blink them away and look down the drain.
Wishing the water back again.
The garage door rises downstairs.
I plug the drain.
And fall into bed instead.


With the music up loud enough
I can scream all I want
I can swear and throw things
Words silently stumble over my lips
No one can see me.
Nobody cares, to know.
Ive made no mark on anyone
Can I float?
Can I fly.
Open the window, let the breeze pick up the sound and carry it away.
Stand on my rooftop...its my time to try to fly.

(everybody scream your heart out)

Taste of Ink.

I decided I don't care how "slutty' it'd look.

Or how bad it'd look since I'm so small.

I want this to be my next tattoo going up my side.