God I hope noone reads this anymore.

Anyway, I guess this is happening tonight. A catharsis.

I accidentally put my zune on shuffle, and Best Coasts "When I'm with you" came on. I couldn't help think of all the fun I had this summer. I also couldn't help but think about what a disheveled mess I was at the end. I also couldn't help but think of you.

Anyway, I just started thinking about all of the fun I had, to just that song. I couldn't help but thinking of cruising to it, while it was blasting out of my stereo. I couldn't help but think of the warmth of the sun, and just having fun.

I also remembered hanging out with my best friend, and beating the absolute hell out of a couple of harleys. Now I can't help but think of graduation, and that night. I think of how I felt then, how I felt so small. I felt as worthless then as I do now, but thats besides the point.

The funny thing is, the songs kept rolling on this shuffle. Its like this damn zune has a memory. Hot Rod Circuit, Metric, The Beach Boys, The Sonics, The Thermals., Wavves, all of it kept coming on, and made me think of all of my life.

I remember going to kings island, and being kind of pissed about blowing money that I could have spent on my car. In hindsight, the memory was worth it. I'll never forget being with all of you.

No culture Icons popped on, by the thermals, and I thought of this semester. Seeing as this record was in my constant rotation for three weeks, and its only thirty minutes long, I fell in love with everything about it. The time marks all of it.

I don't know why I feel the way I do. I really don't. I had a killer summer, and one minor set back (well two if you count fucking my harley up..), and I was going to have bitter memories. Why? Why do I obsess over negative times when I should embrace those that made my life good. Good for those moments in time.

Its damn funny how memories are triggered, and I wrote a paper freshman year of high school about songs that are important because of memories. Its odd how I'd write it differentially now, and how I'd mean it.

I loved you.

If that sentences touches you, then I'm sorry because make damn sure that my tenses are kept in order.

I love you.

If that means something to you, then it mean something to me. Whatever that is, whoever you are. I mean it.


What all of this boils down to, is that I had a good summer. I want to keep writing about all of this. I had a broken heart, or maybe it was just sprained. I wept, like Yoni Wolf would want me to. I obsess over people, over things, over ideas and anything in between. I'm sorry if I'm fucked up. I mean well, and I've a big heart. I'm submissive. Thats my flaw.

I'm not smart, honest maybe, but not smart.

I listen to pavement just to help me remember what it felt like to be innocent. So many fortresses and ways to attack.
I listen to wavves, because I want to be.

I'll fall in love with any girl with a pretty face, and kind words. Regardless of how much they mean them.

I'm glad that I've about four friends that I can count on to keep me in line, and keep me from doing things I'll regret later. You know who you are. If you have to ask yourself if you are one of those people, you aren't.

I'm boring. I'm sorry. I'm only interesting on paper. I mean, unless you really want to know that someone cares about how much the song "Last Dance" by the raveonettes means to them, or how much someone loves '36 ford three windows (or why a certain '54 ford is amazing), then I really have nothing interesting to say.

I'm just going to keep writing.

My world is a reflection of how I feel and the mood I'm in.
"I had a broken heart, or maybe it was just sprained."

A dear friend wrote that line, I promised I'd plagiarize it.

In the end, this isn't the end. Winter is a drag though, and I want summer back. I want to go cruise, regardless of how lame that sounds. I just want to be with you. I just want summer back. I want to listen to the white stripes and speed down bluff. I want to listen to My blood Valentine and stare at the stars with you. You said you'd be down.

I've another post like this coming again. It'll probably be up tomorrow, its about a year ago. Or two. It must be two. Well two stories, like the building. I've got two stories, one about sanding, and one about putting my interior in for the first time. They both involve my best friend, and they're both before I met you. Or is it before I met you. You decide. It is really subjective of who "you" are to decide if we met before or after that fact, isn't it?

You hate me being vague.

Good night.