  Hello all. I haven't made a spectatularly huge post in a long time...I think it's about time for one, just to liven this place up a bit. I swear...no one being on anymore...it's like living in the grey halls of the dead. Well, summer is off to a fantastic start. First, I got my license which I can't use, because of not having a car. Having it is totally amazing, nonetheless, it's like opening a Pandora's Box with not so much of the after-effect; moreover, it just satiates that taste of freedom. Ignorance is coming along quite well...we've got to complete this eight song demo pretty damned quick here; the clock is ticking. So fars, as to the demo, that is... A Bleeding Year , Broken Me , Close My Eyes , Little Rhyme , My Solution , Goodbye My Friend ...one that's almost finished but not quite, Consanguinity (u BLE*2D lyk me) ...that's about all, but I've been processing another in my head all day, so number eight should be on it's way out pretty soon.
Totally excited, but that basically means I move away from Brentwood for...the rest of my life, pretty much. We've got time between tours and stuff like that, but it'll probably be spent in hotels a thousand miles away...it's just the way these things work. It's kind of upsetting, thinking of all of this in its element: Rosie made the slightly misspelled point the other day that in two years, this dream ends, and it's time to wake up or go back to sleep again, and start a different dream.
Either way, it means never coming back to this safe little haven of ours here. And to think that this album might just be done before the end of this summer, and with the slight likelihood that it takes off...I'll never come back. I've never been too far out of Brentwood, at least not for long. But this is a permanent ex-communication, even if I did come back.
It's like having a friend in the hospital for a few years...the next time you see them again, you treat them differently, like they would break. You try to tell yourself that they're just the same as before, but they're not, and neither are you. So in the rare event that this did happen, that would be the end of me, it would be the same me but one who is sort of...gone...it's the same face and the same words and probably the same personality if not a bit more optimistic...but it's still not me.
It scares me to death, but it's the same reason that I draw air every second of my present existence. Because summer doesn't give me much to hope for. The things I do anticipate are either a bit riddled with worries and over-concern, or too far off to care about overly at present. Tho it sounds pretty dark it's just the way it is...if you saw me during one of my days, that's just the way it goes. Self-imposed isolation? Perhaps. Depression? Give it that name if you will. Honestly, this is the most socialization I've done out of any summer this far in my life, and it's only the beginning.
That reminds me of another thing I was thinking of...the fact that I'm only sixteen. It's a trademark of being American, to be sixteen. It means responsibility, it means coming of age. But the fact is, it also means that the years are shrinking and running out... Did anyone notice how fast this year has gone? Yesterday, I was outside doing something or another, and I happened to think back on every year of my life. I put little tags of each of them, I've found. This is the year that I was happy and the world was no bigger than my living room, this is the year that was the first time I decided to become a creature of depression and death, and this year was the second time that that happened, this was the week in that year where I fucked everything up, and this is the other week that everything fucked me up and just hasn't stopped yet. Stuff like that, I tag them. But the thing is, I'm already tired of putting tags on the years, remembering all of this is getting old...and I'm only sixteen.
I'm thinking ahead to forty, what happens then? Will I just remember that I've been alive this long, not that when I was sixteen I thought I had a new beginning but instead just had to go back and finish the old ones, but that I was a kid. It bores me to tag all of these years and remember them, but at the same time it burns me to think that, in the end, I'm just a bundle of thoughts and visions that even I can't piece together, that in the end, I am simply nothing more than a little piece of everyone's puzzle, and that everyone's puzzle burns out in the end as well.
I don't even know if I actually want to remember some thing that have happened, which is why I won't write any of this down, and which is also why there's a certain gladness to the gallery of these years floating me away to the nexus at the end.
Well, that's about all. And everyone knows, me especially, that there's a lot of things that I could talk about and make a huge post about, that I am not, for decency's sake...but just remember that I am thinking about these things, and that there really are people behind these words, not just robots that interact with the bullshit we put up here. Ben Folds said it best in this song I'm supposed to be playing at Abby's party...and it's a really good song, this Still Fighting It , but anyway, the lines that struck me most are..."Everybody knows: it hurts/sucks to grow up". It's striking irony, and it's beautiful teenage poetry. 
