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"Dramamine" by howsenselessdeath howpreciouslife [cover of Modest Mouse, duh. Uh, I really fucking love this cover... although I'm not a fan of this girl's username... but I mean. My username on here is fucking LustingForNightmares, so who am I to talk?]
March 18, 2016 Friday 12:24 PM
This, I may have already mentioned, but:
A little more than a week ago–on the way home from beautiful Small Sand's concert–Alexis told me although she doesn't really like or listen to screamo music (I think there's a more dignified title for the genre, but if there is, I can't remember what it is). Still, she likes to dance to it, thinks it's fun. I agreed, said that it's enjoyable in person, but I can't find a place for it in everyday life.
Alexis was all: exactly!
We like to imagine situations to music, or paste it onto our memories. It's... sort of hard for me to do that with screamo. Like, it wouldn't even feel right to listen to that sort of music whilst imagining my middle school self trashing my room and sobbing or... or whatever weird shit I did back then.
No, angsty music would go way better with a memory like that. I have no space in my life for the heavy, heavy music. I wonder what it is Big Fans enjoy so much about that genre. Where, in their heads, does it belong? It's so... dramatic. And angry.
Unless the Earth opened up and suddenly, the entire population of human beings (dressed as Spartans, of course) was fighting some bloody, fiery war against the monsters of Tartarus, I really just can't find a place for that sound. ???
I'd say this world is too Kurt Vonnegut for screamo. See, Adrian was talking about how angry the guy writes just yesterday. I guess I can see that, the anger I mean. With a dash of bitterness. But mostly, it's apathy. Resignation. No room for outbursts at that point. Sit on your porch and sip on your beers, laugh when your neighbor's cat gets hit by a car. This is the truth of it all, I think. Only the pathetic things are sad.
Can't look directly at the sky this time of day. There are clouds and the sun makes them neon. I stare at them anyways, as usual. This is probably why I wear glasses.
"My whole life I've been digging holes for the ghosts that sleep in my throat
Sometimes I say horrible things, terrible things, and I know and I know"
Maybe one day I can arrange words in that way (not like the lyrics above–well sort of, but I'm speaking more generally now, still considering Vonnegut). Hard hitting, y'know? If I were ever to become a writer, I think I'd like to be like my favorite authors. Duh. Haha.
And I want some Mark Twain in there, just because he's pretty funny and I like the easy flow with which he writes.
F. Scott Fitzgerald is actually very nice, too. He's beautiful, but he's also relaxed.
I never want to write in fancy words. Don't wanna stretch to create something. I'd rather writing be easy AND beautiful. Void of all the complicated things.
I think Dramamine has gotta be one of my favorite songs ever. I keep coming back to it. It was one of the first Modest Mouse songs I'd ever heard and I started to ignore it once I'd gotten into their more obscure stuff, but. There's a reason this song is so popular. It's amazing.
Sh, shh, shhh.
We don't have school today.
Today is the day when teachers get taught. Professional development. Sounds like bullshit. Mr. Washington was complaining about it. He was all, "Today I have to go to a three hour meeting to prepare me for a day-long meeting tomorrow!" Teachers teaching teachers teaching students.
On my walk home from school today–I went there for track practice, died in the process–I had a lot if time to consider this. Pointlessly. I spent maybe a minute on the thought.
Thinking it's a loop. A useless, useless loop. Most things are. Information gets passed on, it gets forgotten, no one really cares except for when they do and ugh. Here I am wondering if I'm wasting my time.
But I do my history homework, and I study for tests now–something I learned how to do this year. I weigh some sort of hydrate and heat it up until all the water's gone in chemistry. I start daydreaming in math class whenever I get ahead on the problem sheets (because Precalculus is easy, probably due to the fact that my teacher takes his time when instructing us–he's honestly the best math teacher I've ever had). I don't know.
I do all this stuff. I stay out of my house for around ten hours at least every day. I come home, dick around, do my homework, and go to bed reluctantly–not quite on time, either. Mostly because I sort of wish I had time to do everything I wanted to.
I am living life the way they say you should live life. It's not terrible. It's not super stressful. Things are mostly easy. (I mean, running isn't easy, and essays make me want to cry, but other than that...)
It's... nice. Things are nice.
Writing in this diary has once again become sort of a chore, though. I wince every time I type "I." Three twitches for that sentence. Writing as other people is easier, sometimes.
I think I will leave this alone for now. Two twitches.
*12 hours later*
Yeah... it's a little past midnight now, haha.