Landslide
I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I built my life around you.
Time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too.
Yeah, I'm getting older too.
You know, it feels like only a few months ago yesterday that I was an angsty unhappy tweenager who stole laptops from my dad, locked myself in my room back at Bag End and admired my Merry Brandybuck posters on my walls. I thought life was pretty terrible: I was lonely, in love with an unobtainable idol, supressed by my parents and pretty lonely (mind, this was before the rest of Hobbiton [and my siblings] were online).
One day, my (then) mom and dad hosted many people at our house, for a party of sorts. I was overjoyed to be the son of a friend of the Sons of Gondor. Faramir was my musician idol. He wouldn't let me join the band (fucker) but he let me be their water boy. Life was pretty good, important people liked me and then I got invited to this big party in Lothlorien. I guess you could say that's where my life started to drastically change.
I'd never been beyond the East Marches before that trip to Lothlorien. Gwaihir took me and mom down to Lothlorien (presumably dad was off at a 'gardening convention' but we all know now he was fucking with Mr. Frodo, although he still refuses to admit it. But I digress . . .) See, I learned that not only would their be extraordinary amounts of DMX at this party [new to Lothlorien I was, but not to drugs], but Merry was going too! After seeing relationships between Faramir and Isildur and Sauron (then still just a disembodied eye) more or less 'work out', I thought hooking up with Merry wouldn't be too terribly impossible. After all, Merry was only 41 years older than me, wherein Isildur was several generations older than Faramir (and, um, actually dead at the time) and Sauron, well he was born in the First Age, for crying out loud!
So I asked Merry to go out with me. And that resulted in a crazy roller coaster of rejection-acceptance-rejection that hasn't stopped yet. Merry and I have broken up and gotten back together at least four times, and probably more. And that's not all; it's like some sick soap opera. I died once. Merry's died twice, I think. I've pioneered the realm of incest for Middle-earth, to many people's chagrin and a few other people's slight benefit. God, Himself gave me a fuck toy boy, who I've mostly neglected since he struck out on his own (sorry Mike). I've turned into a (incestuous no less!) Jedi, fucked my mom's (former?) boyfriend, gone beyond the Grey Havens to Valinor, taken over (or tried to take over) Gondor twice. I opened a Casino in Far-Harad, started my own Art Gallery, modeled underwear for Isildur's Secret saved my dad from insane in-laws and even got the ability to heal at abnormally high speeds thanks to some Maia. I've lived through the Fourth Age and welcomed in the Fifth Age on a dark cloud created by a Spiderwoman-gone-human. My Brandyhall home has been destroyed no less than three times and my spirits crushed with it.
I even won first fucking place in a poetry slam and came in as third sexiest male hobbit from the first sexy-icon poll.
Yeah. Pretty fucking impressive resume, huh?
So someone tell me, why do I feel so empty? Why does it feel like my life has all been a waste and I haven't done anything productive? Why does the sentence "I've decided to kill myself" run through my head every day like some monks holy chant? Do I think death would be any sweeter than life? Obviously no, seeing as I'm still living. But the thought does cross my head every day. Everyday I wonder 'What's this life for?' and I can't come up with any answers. Yes, some people love me. I reckon a greater number hate me and at least as many are afraid of me. Whoop-dee-fuckin'-doo. What's all this mean? Beats the hell outta me.
Should I return to Celemanw
'Cause I built my life around you.
Time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too.
Yeah, I'm getting older too.
You know, it feels like only a few months ago yesterday that I was an angsty unhappy tweenager who stole laptops from my dad, locked myself in my room back at Bag End and admired my Merry Brandybuck posters on my walls. I thought life was pretty terrible: I was lonely, in love with an unobtainable idol, supressed by my parents and pretty lonely (mind, this was before the rest of Hobbiton [and my siblings] were online).
One day, my (then) mom and dad hosted many people at our house, for a party of sorts. I was overjoyed to be the son of a friend of the Sons of Gondor. Faramir was my musician idol. He wouldn't let me join the band (fucker) but he let me be their water boy. Life was pretty good, important people liked me and then I got invited to this big party in Lothlorien. I guess you could say that's where my life started to drastically change.
I'd never been beyond the East Marches before that trip to Lothlorien. Gwaihir took me and mom down to Lothlorien (presumably dad was off at a 'gardening convention' but we all know now he was fucking with Mr. Frodo, although he still refuses to admit it. But I digress . . .) See, I learned that not only would their be extraordinary amounts of DMX at this party [new to Lothlorien I was, but not to drugs], but Merry was going too! After seeing relationships between Faramir and Isildur and Sauron (then still just a disembodied eye) more or less 'work out', I thought hooking up with Merry wouldn't be too terribly impossible. After all, Merry was only 41 years older than me, wherein Isildur was several generations older than Faramir (and, um, actually dead at the time) and Sauron, well he was born in the First Age, for crying out loud!
So I asked Merry to go out with me. And that resulted in a crazy roller coaster of rejection-acceptance-rejection that hasn't stopped yet. Merry and I have broken up and gotten back together at least four times, and probably more. And that's not all; it's like some sick soap opera. I died once. Merry's died twice, I think. I've pioneered the realm of incest for Middle-earth, to many people's chagrin and a few other people's slight benefit. God, Himself gave me a fuck toy boy, who I've mostly neglected since he struck out on his own (sorry Mike). I've turned into a (incestuous no less!) Jedi, fucked my mom's (former?) boyfriend, gone beyond the Grey Havens to Valinor, taken over (or tried to take over) Gondor twice. I opened a Casino in Far-Harad, started my own Art Gallery, modeled underwear for Isildur's Secret saved my dad from insane in-laws and even got the ability to heal at abnormally high speeds thanks to some Maia. I've lived through the Fourth Age and welcomed in the Fifth Age on a dark cloud created by a Spiderwoman-gone-human. My Brandyhall home has been destroyed no less than three times and my spirits crushed with it.
I even won first fucking place in a poetry slam and came in as third sexiest male hobbit from the first sexy-icon poll.
Yeah. Pretty fucking impressive resume, huh?
So someone tell me, why do I feel so empty? Why does it feel like my life has all been a waste and I haven't done anything productive? Why does the sentence "I've decided to kill myself" run through my head every day like some monks holy chant? Do I think death would be any sweeter than life? Obviously no, seeing as I'm still living. But the thought does cross my head every day. Everyday I wonder 'What's this life for?' and I can't come up with any answers. Yes, some people love me. I reckon a greater number hate me and at least as many are afraid of me. Whoop-dee-fuckin'-doo. What's all this mean? Beats the hell outta me.
Should I return to Celemanw