(no subject)
this made me bawl like a baby.
like, fuck.
"my beautiful misconceptions"
sounds like :: running for home :: matthew good band (highly recomended for this entry)
u get tossed like a salad of furious atrocities. i get thrown. like a concept of which everyone claims ownership. but no one knows the true beauty of my desire. people forget what i want. people forget what i need. but i've been busy lately. too busy. but not too busy to miss. i do miss. i miss you. i miss you beautiful life. i miss holding your hand, you. i miss kissing your cheek on any night of the week. i miss whispering in your ear my unabridged love. i miss staring into your eyes. i miss sharing a cup of coffee for 3 hours and learning your heart inside out. i miss picking you up from work. i miss suprising you constantly with flowers and cards and water balloons and dog poop. i miss spending more than 6 hours a week with you. and i miss your smile. and you. i miss all four of you. i miss creating insanities and playing to the concrete for hours on end. i miss our dreams of stardom and our schemes of righteous idiocy. i miss putting up posters around town. and i miss dreaming of putting up posters across the world. i miss breaking strings and 4/4 time. the reality of our creativity has hit me now. 3 provinces away. i miss you four. we could go to the top. the 5 of us. with our music and our passion. with our insanity and our forgiven innocence. spending years wrapped in my own sweat. breaking my bones and building my homes. forgetting my dreams...except for the moment. the moment my mother called and pleaded. for the second i decided to take work off. for the evening i camped out with tammy in line. for the moment i won the gold. for the week i hated. for the hour i sang my heart out. for the 7 episodes i showed 2.9 million people that i was meant to be there. for the opporunity of a lifetime that rests in front of me. a chance to follow a dream once lost amongst a pile of hammers and nails. these weeks have given me a new passion to make us into something real. the 5 of us have the opportunity to live out our dreams. the 5 of us. best friends. the 5 of us. an orchestra of insolence. an army of noise. eat your heart out rat pack. The Man couldn't produce a better 5 boys. and i wouldn't trade you guys in for the WORLD. so why would i trade you guys in for...
never in one million years would i have believed i would make it to this place. would i have survived up until now. at one point i only imagined myself standing where i now sit comfortably. we all knew of the promises awaiting the top 3. our mouths drooled at the possibilities. at the opportunities that are garunteed to those 3. honestly, from the begining, i stepped into this sub-reality not to be the coolest kid in school, but to win the eyes of millions. and have done so. proudly.
but the five of us can accomplish all that i could never do on my own. the stage is my home. you 4 are my family. who lives at home without their family? it just doesnt fit. the chains that hold me back have many names. the fears that keep me on my knees have many faces. but the eyes that watch my back have 4 names. and can make pretty damn good music. there are many that see the reality of my tearing thoughts. that witness the fork in this road to cotton candy supremecy. i fear the mediocracy of history's repetition. i fear the dissipation of what once was, all over again. i fear the impossibilities of erasing a reputation i do not embrace. and i miss my band. i miss our ability to bring something so unique, so different, and so exciting to the most important people out there. our fans. the ones that support us. who love us. and who appreciate what we as a band have accomplished and wish to accomplish. the people that have embraced our words and our music with sincerity and pride. and it is for those few, or those many, that we do what we do, and that i write what i write. with pride. with pride, hold your heads up high children. the rain falls heavier these days and it is difficult to see the sun with such heavy eyes. eat your vegetables and stand up for what you belive is the right way. fight like you're dying for what you desire. and never let go of your dreams. most important, embrace the innovations of unfamiliarity with open arms. u never know what to expect. the dangers lie in those that keep their hands over their ears. and the emptiness in their heads. the biggest travesty of my beautiful misconception has been the true reality of opportunity; of which upon its principle and validity i once layed bitter waste.
10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3.
i dream of a rose born of more thorns than beauty. but with such innocent, such sincere, such beautiful a fragrance, making worthy my blood red hand to hold it tight.
"my beautiful misconceptions"
like, fuck.
"my beautiful misconceptions"
sounds like :: running for home :: matthew good band (highly recomended for this entry)
u get tossed like a salad of furious atrocities. i get thrown. like a concept of which everyone claims ownership. but no one knows the true beauty of my desire. people forget what i want. people forget what i need. but i've been busy lately. too busy. but not too busy to miss. i do miss. i miss you. i miss you beautiful life. i miss holding your hand, you. i miss kissing your cheek on any night of the week. i miss whispering in your ear my unabridged love. i miss staring into your eyes. i miss sharing a cup of coffee for 3 hours and learning your heart inside out. i miss picking you up from work. i miss suprising you constantly with flowers and cards and water balloons and dog poop. i miss spending more than 6 hours a week with you. and i miss your smile. and you. i miss all four of you. i miss creating insanities and playing to the concrete for hours on end. i miss our dreams of stardom and our schemes of righteous idiocy. i miss putting up posters around town. and i miss dreaming of putting up posters across the world. i miss breaking strings and 4/4 time. the reality of our creativity has hit me now. 3 provinces away. i miss you four. we could go to the top. the 5 of us. with our music and our passion. with our insanity and our forgiven innocence. spending years wrapped in my own sweat. breaking my bones and building my homes. forgetting my dreams...except for the moment. the moment my mother called and pleaded. for the second i decided to take work off. for the evening i camped out with tammy in line. for the moment i won the gold. for the week i hated. for the hour i sang my heart out. for the 7 episodes i showed 2.9 million people that i was meant to be there. for the opporunity of a lifetime that rests in front of me. a chance to follow a dream once lost amongst a pile of hammers and nails. these weeks have given me a new passion to make us into something real. the 5 of us have the opportunity to live out our dreams. the 5 of us. best friends. the 5 of us. an orchestra of insolence. an army of noise. eat your heart out rat pack. The Man couldn't produce a better 5 boys. and i wouldn't trade you guys in for the WORLD. so why would i trade you guys in for...
never in one million years would i have believed i would make it to this place. would i have survived up until now. at one point i only imagined myself standing where i now sit comfortably. we all knew of the promises awaiting the top 3. our mouths drooled at the possibilities. at the opportunities that are garunteed to those 3. honestly, from the begining, i stepped into this sub-reality not to be the coolest kid in school, but to win the eyes of millions. and have done so. proudly.
but the five of us can accomplish all that i could never do on my own. the stage is my home. you 4 are my family. who lives at home without their family? it just doesnt fit. the chains that hold me back have many names. the fears that keep me on my knees have many faces. but the eyes that watch my back have 4 names. and can make pretty damn good music. there are many that see the reality of my tearing thoughts. that witness the fork in this road to cotton candy supremecy. i fear the mediocracy of history's repetition. i fear the dissipation of what once was, all over again. i fear the impossibilities of erasing a reputation i do not embrace. and i miss my band. i miss our ability to bring something so unique, so different, and so exciting to the most important people out there. our fans. the ones that support us. who love us. and who appreciate what we as a band have accomplished and wish to accomplish. the people that have embraced our words and our music with sincerity and pride. and it is for those few, or those many, that we do what we do, and that i write what i write. with pride. with pride, hold your heads up high children. the rain falls heavier these days and it is difficult to see the sun with such heavy eyes. eat your vegetables and stand up for what you belive is the right way. fight like you're dying for what you desire. and never let go of your dreams. most important, embrace the innovations of unfamiliarity with open arms. u never know what to expect. the dangers lie in those that keep their hands over their ears. and the emptiness in their heads. the biggest travesty of my beautiful misconception has been the true reality of opportunity; of which upon its principle and validity i once layed bitter waste.
10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3.
i dream of a rose born of more thorns than beauty. but with such innocent, such sincere, such beautiful a fragrance, making worthy my blood red hand to hold it tight.
"my beautiful misconceptions"