| We were drunk and carsick
When we rolled into town
Pulling up to the drive-in
There was no one around
When the lights unfolded from the sky
We were the only ones to be found
They were soaring through the sky
We were left on the ground
Sitting in the living room
The dog is catching caramel corn
I never wanted a change
Brushing teeth and combing hair
I guess they do this everywhere
I guess it's time for a change
I never wanted a change
I think it's time for a change |
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| This is the moment
That you know
That you told her that you loved her
But you don't
Touch her skin
And then you think
That she is beautiful
But she don't mean a thing to me
I spent two weeks
In Silver Lake
The California sun cascading down my face
There was girl
With light brown streaks
And she was beautiful
But she didn't mean a thing to me
I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking
As we moved together in the dark
All the friends that I was telling
All the playful misspellings
And every bite I gave you left a mark
Tiny vessels oozed into your neck
And formed the brusises that you said you didn't want to fade
But they did
All I see are dark gray clouds
In the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you ask
"Is something wrong"
I'd think you're damn right there is
But we can't talk about it now
So one last touch
And then we'll go
And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile
And it was cheap
And you are beautiful
But you don't mean a thing to me
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| I'll leave the lights down low
So he knows I mean business
And maybe we could talk this over
Because I could be your best bet
Let alone your worst ex
I want to hate you so bad
But I can't stop this
Anymore than you can
So honestly
How could you say those things
When you know they don't mean anything
And you know very well I can't keep my hands to myself
This is all wrong
And it shows the certain things I promised not to let you know
You've got this silly way
Of keeping me on the edge of my seat
I'm miserable
And you're just getting started
You've got me where you want me
Let's never talk about this again
I didn't want it to mean that much to me
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| High school was an amazing span of 4 years. And by amazing I mean the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced in my life. I mean it's not like I was like "omigod slit my wrists while I listen to pop music wrapped in a black sheet" in high school, it was like what the fuck am I doing here I should probably just drop out and move to Jersey and sell drugs to small children. I know Jersey isn't really the best place to live, but I don't think I would mind it, and just think of the monsters I could create. I could quite possibly be responsible for half of the deaths that occur on the east coast. Except the high school kids that slit their wrists while listening to shitty music that I once cherrished and loved.
Sometimes, and this complete honesty, I wish I would've been born in 1978. I mean, given I'd be 27 right now, but I'd also probably be a lot happier of a person. But I imagine if I had been born in 1978 I'd be bitching right now in a journal with Nirvana blaring in the background, I mean becuase it wouldn't be 2006, it'd be 1996, and I'm pretty sure in 1996 the only people that had homecomputers were really rich kids, and jewish kids, well they're one in the same, but lets not argue semantics.
But then lets come to present day and I'd be 27, I'd imagine myself as a very happy 27 year old, because I wouldn't think the best days of my life were over. But if you'd wait a few weeks I'd be 28 and then I would start freaking out because I'd be 2 years away from 30.
Sometimes, I don't think 30 would be a bad age to die. It doesn't really give you time to develop close relationships with those you may. Plus by time I'm 30 I hope to have done every exciting thing I will do in life. After 30 I'm looking for smooth sailing, possibly to Tahiti.
So I'm leavig for college in exactly one month. It's kind of a weird feeling. I think the oddest part about it is that I'm saddest about leaving my boyfriend, while I'm not sure if he's even sad that I'm leaving, and you'd think I'd be terribly upset about leaving my mom, but it's not like she can leave me a voice mail as follows "Well Taylor these past 18 years have been great, but I don't think things are going to work out, and I really need back the thousands of dollars I've lent you over the years, oh yeah and my blender," and if she did well then please hand me a broken bic and a copy of Adam's Song.
I'd like to think that someone will read this and be like "damn," but it won't happen. I remember one time I got like 17 comments on xanga, and I was like I am so awesome. Well then I went to someone's xanga with a seeminly more intersing life filled with Ciggarettes and coffee or an iPod with a collection of music larger than the Library of Congress (with the same use) and saw they had 58 comments and I was like I am so awesome, but with that sarcastic tone that you all know so well, and by you all I mean the one 47 year old person that reads this and is vicasiously living through me becuase he never got to lead the life of a 17 year old with a horrible anxiety disorder. |
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| "I really wanna thank all of you for coming here today, I want to thank all of you for supporting Angels and Airwaves, and I wanna thank you for supporting my old band Blink 182. I really want to thank you all for giving me a second chance with this band. I want you all to know that regardles of how old anyone is or what their reason is, if anyone tries to tell you what to do with your life, fuck them. This is The War"-Tom |
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