Written earlier, on the train:
I’m on the train again. Some introspective thoughts have come from sitting in the train, staring out at the blur of scenery. Thoughts race faster than I can get them down; It just takes some focusing.
My Aunt Elvia just called me, and it’s the first time I have spoken to her since the 23rd of February. Going to the Linkin Park concert last night depressed me, and now more so after getting her call. She expressed to me moments ago that she’s glad I went and she wished she could have gone. And yes, I still had that extra third ticket so technically she could have gone. I feel worse than worse now. Things like this can’t just be pushed aside and gone from my mind. Not at all. So what is there to do now?
The concert itself was amazing. Chiodos sounds equally haunting live as they do in their album. They played my fave songs, which is pretty cool. They kept saying they’re new and lalala and thanks to LP &etc. ‘Twas cute. As for Coheed and Cambria… gag! I absolutely hate them. I thought I hated their album, but oh no they’re awful live. Or at least I think so. Their set was bordering on too long considering they were giving me a headache.
When Linkin Park went on, though, it didn’t matter. The Coheed-induced headache was gone. (: So as not to sound gay I don’t think I’m going to profess how exciting and amazing the show was (apart from what I just said). I recorded a few songs. I haven’t heard yet, but hopefully it sounds alright.
The rise and fall of a single solitary person.
There are things in life so sad they just cannot be expressed. Some days I think I am one of those. What makes it worse it that I look completely happy when that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Listening to The Kids Aren’t Alright brings back memories from the end of Junior year. Victorialee, Stephanie, David, and I made a music video to that song. We were an over-achieving little group. We made CDs with a cover that I designed (titled The Glassers as that was our teacher’s name, Mr. Glasser), and passed them out to students as prizes when they answered questions on our Wheel (made by my very artistic&creative twin, Victoria). Stephanie’s boyfriend got us a fog machine and the whole place was like a stage with us dressed in our rocker outfits and stuff. It was so damn tight.
Memories like these are so so so mood altering. How can someone honestly go from true happiness to complete misery? 11th grade/now. 11th grade/now. The memories switch back and forth and they are just so different. Let’s now even touch up on 12th grade. Possibly the worst year of my whole damn life. I rather pretend it never happened.
I’m going to write something else right now, but I don’t know why. Vague, yes. Whatever. This is more than I can take.