Summer plans.

July 6th. Host a show in my backyard.

July 10th. Total Abuse and Drunkdriver in Philadelphia.

July 17th. Play at 709.

July 19th-July 26th. Staying in Emmaus.

August 15th. Play at 709.

Yeah.

I love playing shows. The last one I played, I played my guitar so hard that I ended up having a scab on my forearm. How does that happen? And I was also playing so hard that my High E string ended up latched under one of my pick ups. I love playing music.

What's the point?

I noticed you quite a lot before I left town with my best friends to hangout with my favorite crowd. I played music for my favorite crowd. I recall almost crying while screaming, because all I could think of was you.

You tried to help me find my binder the other day. I almost exploded when I heard you say my name. I've been so fucked up ever since. What's the point? Why do you pretend to care when I know you don't?

My head hurts. Should I give you forgiveness? Or am I the one who should be apologizing? I'm not sure. I'd probably puke if there was something in my stomach. Perhaps sleep will make me forget.

Travel

It's been a day or so since the show in Bethlehem. And I feel pretty bummed. I miss the road. Being on the road when the weather is nice is absolutely amazing. I don't have much to say here. Dammit.

Show.

Lows and Highs

Life is weird. Just last week my mind was filled up with all of this tension and worry. No problem that was causing this tension was solved. Yet, I'm flowing through life as if they were. I have been permitted back into school. Fine. I have also been accepted into a School to Work program. This will finally get me a job when I attend school next year. This means one thing, in whole. I have this summer, to make the most out of my first seventeen years of life. And I'm trying my hardest to by organizing and disorganizing events throughout the summer to create and fuck shit up. This summer has to be the best one I've ever had. I will not waste it sleeping like I did the past two summers. Having no friends makes it hard to keep your sleeping schedule on track. But this summer, I have friends. Some of the best too. I look forward to the next four months. August. Stay the fuck away from me, August. August, what a disgusting word. The taste of it in my mind makes me want to shit out aliens that will eat everyone around me. Except for Dexter. Because Dexter rules.

I have much work to do, so that I spend my summer, not working. I have feelings to search and contemplate, and transform into a song. Because that is all I have. My feelings.