I'm sick and tired of your attitude, I'm feelin' like I don't know you.

So, this blog is now my baby. and mine alone. I'm excited to have full custody of this thing. It's been forever since I've written in journal form. I've been slacking when it comes to writing. I was busy with school and exams, then there was an epic hunt for a job, and now I am employed, so writing gets put on the back burner. Which sucks, because writing is my one true love in my life.

Anywho, not alot has been happening over these lazy summer days. I worked at Parisian all day today. My life now consists of selling over priced slacks to middle age women. Not bad, not thrilling.
I bought All Time Low's new album the other day. It's phenomenal. It's really different from So Wrong It's Right, but nevertheless, still All Time Low. Their writing style has matured, and it's exciting to hear the change. I'm wicked pumped to see them at Warped. Honestly, that's the prime reason I'm going to Warped Tour this year. (that and the Buzznet/Glamour Kills owl shirt)

not much else has been going on, so...maybe I'll post a poem of sorts. because, ya know...why not?

Casual Casualties.

My lip grows ruby from nervousness.
The anxiety grips my lungs.
You stand in front of me with worried eyes and tense ears.
A prisoner, this fight has turned you into a stranger.

You take my hand and take a deep breath.
Never fail to attempt to comfort and protect.
But now the person I need protection from is you.
Switch sides in this battle, enemy lines drawn.

But you only see yourself in the mirror.
This feeling of loss has become a habit.
These frugal attempts are just facades in a losing battle.
A fake exterior for outsiders, ourselves; struggling with our last breath.

But now, we can’t deny what is coming, I unweave my fingers from your grip.
My words become repetitive, worn;
You only listen until you catch your reflection‘s gaze.

You stop, stare, smile, wink.
Return to my doubtful expression.
“what were you saying?”
I’ve grown tired of this battleship game.
My lip has grown sore, the anxiety releases.
I sigh a breath of surrender
The last breath between us gives out.

You see past the disgust in my eyes
As a pretty blonde walks past.
I shrug, give you one last hug.
Hold you one last time.
This battle has been won, and the enemy has taken over
You’re the prisoner of war, boy
And I’ll never win if the captive embraces the surrender.


<3