can we cast our shadows alone in the dark?
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Wednesday, August 20, 2003 The Neo-Punk Movement Must Die. Please. For the love of everything. Please remove any and everyone who listens to or claims their favorite bands as Blink 182, Good Charlotte, Brand New, New Found Glory, or any of the supposed "pop punk" bands. And by remove I mean death, dying, decay, destruction -- you get the idea. I have a sad, sad tale to tell. Last week when I was still in Drama class (I have since transferred to Journalism), we were playing a game to get to know each other. I was paired with 3 other cats, and it was kinda cool, almost fun... ...even though Drama was swamped with 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. I, as an 11th grader, and Zach Bowe, as a 10th grader, represented the high school in its entirety. Depressing. As the game progressed, we had to introduce one another one-by-one. The game came to a girl named Lydia, and she when introduced, it was said that she listened to "punk" music. Still being attentive (I've been known to nod off in class. Must have something to do with going to bed at 2 and 3 on school nights), I asked out loud, "What bands?" "Oh, you know... Blink 182, Good Charlotte, Green Day." I wanted someone to slice and dice me. Come to think of it, I would have provided a nice, new razor for easy slicing and dicing. I started in on my rant of "That is NOT punk music", but I caught myself before I decapitated anyone. After all, violence is not the answer. Point is, I am sick of hearing individuals label this supposed neo-punk movement as "punk." It is not, and just like garage rock, stop calling it as such. If I hear anything more about said bands, I can't be held responsible for busting heads. Oh and by the way, "Neo-Punk Movement" is copyright 2003, moi. I'm feeling kinda odd lately. Nostalgic, I would term it. I don't know that I miss things or people as wholes, I just miss certain things. I hope that makes sense to others, because it makes sense to me. I don't know that I miss my dad. Sure, I miss having him around for certain things, but the whole kit is a big mess. I don't even know that I love my dad. Sometimes I want to say it, but sometimes I don't want to have anything to do with him, and wish I'd never had him as a father. I don't know when was the last time that I hugged him. It's been years, I know this for sure. I haven't said "I love you" to him in years, either. But I don't know if I regret that, either. It's all messed up... all I know is, it's not my fault. Hmm... As the old saying goes, yes, pictures do say a thousand words. I got my final SJI pictures back tonight, and god, do they ever hit a soft spot. Looking just at little snapshots bring back both good and bad memories. Pangs of sadness hidden inside pockets of laughter. Although sharp and biting pains are little, they are still there. If I haven't said it before, to my SJI compadres, I miss all of you. I would venture to say was the best 6 days of my life. shoo fly, don't bother me... overthought at 11:15:41 PM by a hole in the world |
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