In one fell swoop

If there's one thing I've learned,
it's that we never feel the heat until we get burned.

In one fell swoop we're gonna cover the past two months. Cool? Cool. It's embarassing to realize that I haven't updated in over a month, I assure you. But really, what has there been to say? I work 65 hour weeks and sweat nearly every second of it, I collect reasonably fat paychecks that I don't have time to spend and I dance the Cotton-Eyed Joe. I'd be lying if I said that every day is the exactly the same, but really, what matters are those inexplicable subtleties. So why try? I've met some of the most amazing people and I can't think of another batch of kids I'd rather wear carpet and fiberglass with.

But we try so hard not to die,
sometimes we forget to appreciate life.

It's almost unfathomable to think about not seeing those same smiling or laughing to sleeping or sweating or hungover or stoned faces on a daily basis. And when that time comes at the end of August and into the fall- when I'm back at Ramapo, Laura and Matt are back at Rider, when Steve's on a boat somewhere, all the high school kids are dozing off in class and thinking about high school things- I think, or maybe I hope, I won't be alone in feeling like I left a little part of me at Six Flags. Because I think we do that. Leave little traces of ourselves everywhere we've sweated or cried or bled or laughed. It's a nice thought. That when we die- we're still scattered around the world.

When the spark reaches powder, I will blow up.
I'll become the mist you breathe into your lungs.

Nineteen is a stupid age. I can buy cigarettes I won't smoke and do in secret what Twenty-One year-olds do legally. I can wonder what it's like to be two decades old. I can give coworkers funny looks when I find out that they were born in the 90's. I don't think I want a cake this year. Nineteen candles is perhaps a few too many.

All of my love will then turn into yours.
And you will feel hope bleeding out from your pores.

But I did manage to get out of the house long enough to spend a killer weekend last week with Eric. His brother's engagement party straight into Warped Tour Sunday. Ballin'. Warped Tour was pretty cool. All that could be expected to be lame certainly was. But flying Gatorade bottles and overweight crowdsurfers aside, I had a great time. What follows is a list of the 8 bands I saw ranked from worst to best based on live performance in Englishtown. (because you know that if I do a long and sweeping blog entry... I'm gonna rank shit):

8. Drop Dead, Gorgeous
7. The Starting Line
6. Coheed and Cambria
5. Envy on the Coast
4. Hot Rod Circuit
3. New Found Glory
2. Straylight Run
1. The Spill Canvas

I am the definition of objective.

[Mom and] Dad, you were there when nobody was.
I followed your lead, now I'm proud of what I've become.

I want to grow my hair, grow a beard and get a tattoo. And I wanna play guitar in a rock 'n roll band. Perhaps I'm going through a phase. We never seem to grow out of those, do we? We just grow from one to another. But I kinda like it like that. And I wanna keep putting pretty words together for pretty girls. Up three-sixty-five a year twenty-four sev 'cause real gangsta ass poets don't sleep.

[Girl], you never cease to amaze me.
Maybe someday we'll get another chance to be.


FM Stringer - AIM
12:31 im blogging
12:31 and thinking i sound old

_______ - AIM
12:31 you ARE old


To all my friends, where do I start?
I know I'd be dead without you in my heart.

In my heart.

Bomb the Blogosphere,
Mike


Credit where it's due: "Appreciation and the Bomb" by The Spill Canvas