I leave today for tour. Sort of. We're playing in Portland. So I guess I leave tomorrow. But yeah. If anyone ever reads this, sorry for not updating. There's lots of shit going on in my life, but no one really cares, so why write about it!? So I guess technically, this is day one. I guess I should do some sort of like, tour journal. I'll probably write at night after the show, or in the morning after. So here's the deal so far.

It's 10:30 AM. I woke up around 6. Couldn't fall back asleep. Sat up, tried filling in a couple gaps in tour. So I was sending emails and researching. I smoked the 10th cigarette in my pack. Ironically, it was my 2nd to last. Since then, I've been watching random videos, reading a few dedicated blogs, and uploading movies, some last minute downloads, and the complete Harry Potter audio books onto my iPod for the hours in the van ahead of me.

Tour is a strange beast. I'm excited to leave. I'm scared of the results. I'm excited to have a homecoming. I'm scared of the constants.

Listen to Hot Water Music - "Already Roses".

I ran through storm stained city streets. Paved with pain to bring these roses to you. And with sore throat insecurity you pulled the thorns from my bleeding side. There were winter days spent in(sulking)side. Try to heat cold sheets jide allergy eyes...I'm now hanging out with destiny and begging it to get the best of me.

What else can I do?

Why do you read me like no one else?

Used to live headaches now they're somewhere else...We are handguns, angel, waiting to explode...We've lived cold lives but now we know. The sun may hide but the night is always there.

So don't anticipate. It's not worth the wait. What did you expect?

Status report: I've called it a day. There's a world of people, different than me.
Status report: I've lost my voice, trying to be heard over this noise.

Die young, or live forever? I'm just trying to get through the night. See there's this voice dragging me down.
Die young, or live forever? I'm just trying to refind my heart, it was always there just hard to see in the dark.

But you weren't even fucking looking.























































































Sleeping like there's no tomorrow.

If I have ever been romantically interested in you, please feel free to call/text/IM/write/message/show up in front of my face, and tell me how happy you are with somebody else. We've got like, 4 down in the past day. So let's keep it going today.

It's all so ironic the things that you think, you preface them all with a nod and a wink. The clothes that you wear and the words that you speak; you're so fucking clever; you're tongue's in your cheek. You stand on the sidelines and shit on it all, never getting involved because you might take the fall. You're apathy hides the fact that you're scared, never expressing opinions or showing you care. The irony is that you totally suck. You can look down on me but I don't give a fuck. Because I hate assholes who hide behind fashion who live life devoid of emotion or passion. All style and no substance, you're flesh without bone, another footsoldier in an army of clones. So fuck your snide ways and your snotty asides, I fucking hate you and all of your kind.

And you are who you fuck, or so I am told. In this miserable city, where status is gold. I've seen shit-eating people who claw their way up, looking for the acceptance that they never got. And it's all about winning the meat market games. Among all the rejects, dropouts and fakes. Did everyone give you the attention you seek? Who's arm are you draped on this fucking week?

Trophy boys and trophy girls: Go fuck yourself, I hate your world. Fair-weather friends are keeping score.

Name dropper.
Name fucker.
You're a fucking whore.

There's a sense of pride and accomplishment that's been running over me since last night. I feel like since I've moved here, I've adopted this little black cloud that hangs over my head. I'm not sure when it formed, or how to make it go away. But I feel like the part of it that was really bringing me down is at a standstill. There are still many different angles that I need to work and grow throughout. But there's at least a finger in the dam holding back the flood.

I think that there are many things about me I don't understand. There are these ticks that I get where a switch gets turned on or turned off. And I go in and out of feeling certain ways. I don't need to be medicated. But it's been hard coping with it. I've become more apparently "up and down". And I'm not really sure how to make it work in my favor. The only thing I know how to do is to sulk into a dark depth of my own feelings, sinking into it like quicksand. Let the bitter taste of earth enter my lungs and then write. I'm hoping that by teetering so closely to peril that I don't end up becoming overwhelmed on drowning in the sand.

The loneliness has yet to subside. But it's been masked tenfold over with a sense that my mission, my goal, my efforts, my sacrifice, my relentlessness, and my fifth were invested effective. And now that I'm standing here at a monumental plateau, I think I'll just watch the sun set until tomorrow.

It's probably a mix of a lot of things. It's probably the cold, the snow, the lonesomeness, a lot of different things...But they all add up. Every element of "what could have been" and "what I wished it have been" converge together to make this feeling of ultimate loneliness. Honesty is a precious and beautiful commodity that I consider a need these days. I feel like it's the only glue holding me together anymore.

I've realized a lot of things about myself in the past week or so. Whenever certain people lose interest and when no one texts back. It all comes down to reflection. I feel like at this point, I'm okay with certain parts of it. But others just sort of weather the rock of my ego much harder than I could have expected. I know now how much I took advantage of people romantically before I left California. I realize now how much I depended on a lot of that attention and how the validation physically and emotionally was an addiction I stopped thinking about feeding and just fed. It wasn't any longer about wanting the feeling, it was about needing it, and nothing really stood in the way of grabbing hold of that warm body and eager heart. After moving here, I stopped. I gave it all up. Celibacy has evolved from a option into an ultimatum, and I'm thankful I chose honesty and integrity over the ease of romance and sexual desire. The hardest thing I've realized is that I don't think I've made a person romantically happy in a long time. Years at this point. I feel like I've amused people and entertained (and on the same token, I've been entertained and amused). And I'm done with that.

I can handle being let go. I can handle realism and values and how I get in the way. I can handle all of that. But there are some things I just can't let go of.

I remember the surprisingly warm January night twelve months ago. I remember everything about that night. I remember what you were wearing (that cardigan and jeans with your little shoestring headband). I remember how warm it was and how I only needed to wear my favorite Converge track-jacket. I remember it being wet outside, leftovers from that evening that hadn't evaporated yet. I remember your eyes. Strangely innocent. I remember the way you bashfully hid your smile, I'd later learn how insecure you were about showing your teeth. I always adored their imperfection. I remember dreading the thought of having to leave and I remember the skip in my heart when you agreed to conversation over dinner. I remember running to Chipotle and calling you to ask what you wanted. Your fucking burritos with just sour cream and no guacamole. Gross. I remember after bearing the cool air we couldn't do anything but go back to your apartment. I remember watching the Office for the first time. Season Two. "Gay Witch Hunt" (now one of my favorite episodes). I remember the way that during the first 10 or 15 minutes we sat so close that our legs would graze each other. We'd laugh together and you could do anything about hiding your smile at that point. I remember it getting late. I remember you putting your head on my shoulder. I remember commandeering your iPod dock and putting on "Young Turks". I remember you creeping up as I laid on my back softly singing "Young hearts be free tonight". I remember you kissing me and how nothing mattered.

I remember a lot of things after that, but I try not to. I block out how much I questioned about myself. I block out how much you got under my skin. I block out the words that were said so naively. I block out everything I came to understand to be hollow and empty. And what I'm left with is the paragraph above. Because everything else just hurts to think about. I used to say "I'd give anything to do things differently." But knowing what you're capable of now, I don't think I want to go there again. I kept on telling myself I let go. But I don't think I ever will. No resolution for open books and no consolation for feelings misplaced.

I love you like I've loved every other girl. And that means I never did.

I'll be the grapes fermented,
Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit
Like a perfect gentlemen
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick
Where you will sit and contemplate your day

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning
In an open tab when your judgement's on the brink
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
Albums back as your lying there drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...
You won't have to strain to look into my eyes
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zippedstraight to the throat
With the collar up so you won't catch a cold

I want to take you far from the cynics int his town
And kiss you on the mouth
We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change,
We'll give ourselves new names (identities erased)
The sun will hear the grounds
Under our bare feet in this brand new colony
Everything will change.

Social anxiety is a term used to describe an experience of anxiety (emotional discomfort, fear, apprehension or worry) regarding social situations and being evaluated by other people. It occurs early in childhood as a normal part of social functioning. People vary in how often they experience social anxiety or in which kinds of situations. It can be related to shyness or other emotional or temperamental factors, but its exact nature is still the subject of research and theory. Extreme social anxiety can be disabling and may be diagnosed as social anxiety disorder (social phobia).