I live my life in cycles.

For a while things were ok. I was persevering. Saying the word again and again in my mind trying to go through the days. Full of hope. Full of memorizing my Altpress magazines and counting the followers on my tumblr. But i live my life in cycles and that season has faded just like the cold breeze of winter has left New York City.

I would like to say I'm mad as shit. I don't knot why I'm mad. I have no idea why my veins are bulging through my hands like this when they never do. All I know is that I'm tired. I've restricted myself from complaining for months now. But i can't do it anymore and I think it would unhealthy for me to even try. For all intensive purposes it's like I have absolutely no friends. With the exception of a Warped hangout my summer will be spent with me and myself. I've written out all these shows I want to go to but never realized I'd be doing it alone. No one even knows me. I don't think one single person on this entire earth knows me. And it's all very depressing. It's just unfair how everything panned out. Sometimes I just genuinely think I don't deserve all the things I feel. I guess that's why I'm mad.

Music is my only friend. My friend that won't leave. My friend that won't find someone new. My friend that really knows me. I feel like people miss out on the vast importance of the people who make today's alternative music. Like Frank fucking Carter. I can seriously quote every single line that comes out of his mouth. Like Anthony Green. Like Moran. Like New Found Glory or Bikini Kill. Like Sublime or Big D and the Kids Table.Like Craigery Owens. Music is all I have. No positive bull no poetic ending. Music is all I have. I could give a fuck less about people or love for this season because never in my life have I had anyone actually be a true friend to me. EVER.