I've formed a punk rock band called 'Toilet Surfers' with my collegemates. So far, we've covered Social Distortion and Blink-182 (we're planning to cover some Alkaline Trio and Matt Skiba & The Sekrets songs too, btw).
We rehearsed last night and the studio's located far away from my house. So, i slept over at my friend's house.
His room was very 'punk rock'. Band posters all over the wall, Les Paul, stickers, stencils, and all the cool things were in his room.
I used to be a lover of those cool 'messed up' things. Until last year, i removed all my posters off my wall, disposed all the messy things, and cleaned up my room until it's neat. And i still don't know why i did that.
At that time, i suddenly felt very uncomfortable with those things. I used to think that those are cool. But then i changed for indescribable reason and started to think that those messed up things are not cool anymore.
I was playing his Les Paul while enjoying the room's atmosphere; Posters, stickers, and stencils of Social Distortion, Misfits, Rancid, and the other punk rock bands. I was quite amazed and enjoyed the atmosphere, but it's only for a while. It lasted only about 10 mins, and then i started to feeling uncomfortable.
"I can't live with those things anymore." I thought. My friend is a year older than me. But he still got his 'youth' passion. I had no idea. Maybe it's because of my old mental age. One time, I took an online mental age quiz and my result was 45. It sucks and to be honest it's quite embarassing.
I'd never thought "I'm too old for this shit." But since last year, i kinda started to think that. I'm only 18 and i'm asking this question to myself over and over again; "Am i too old for shit? Or am i growing up too soon?"
Friday, August 7, 2015
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Drink Well, Kids! (And Disobey The Seniors)
This morning i've got an email from Metal Hammer Magazine about a breaking news from Slipknot. It said "Slipknot Bassist Rushed To Hospital During The Show". I was shocked as hell cause my first thought was "Slipknot's bassist dies again?! What kind of devil has gotten into this band?!"
Then, i read the whole news and i got relieved. Alex Venturella the current Slipknot's bassist didn't die. He just blacked out while performing on stage with Slipknot in Hartford, Connecticut and had to walk off the stage, then rushed to the hospital. He was suffering from 'Severe Dehydration'. Too bad the show went on without Alex. But the good news was the show still went on.
I had that kind of 'shitty' experience on my college orientation week. The seniors were very very cruel because they limited the water supply for us while we were forced to do some abhorrent physical activites. They yelled at us, mocked us, and successfully made me really want to literally KILL them so bad. Yes, i still have it in my boiling blood that runs through my veins; the obsession of KILLING those seniors. Or at least kick 'em in the nuts.
They got me dehydrated, i barely blacked out, and at the time they forced me to keep running on and on, my asthma flared up. I was rushed to the medic and allowed to go home earlier. My friend was even worse. Her asthma flared up and she wasn't rushed to the medic, but straight to the hospital. We had the similar experience, at the same time. It's kinda funny, but that's how we met.
I'm a sophomore now. But i know it really sucks to be a freshman. And so does dehydration. So drink well, kids. And DO NOT ever obey the seniors, cause your asthma might flare up. If they mess around with you, kick 'em right in the nuts until they puke their guts.
Fuck the seniors, fuck dehydration!
Then, i read the whole news and i got relieved. Alex Venturella the current Slipknot's bassist didn't die. He just blacked out while performing on stage with Slipknot in Hartford, Connecticut and had to walk off the stage, then rushed to the hospital. He was suffering from 'Severe Dehydration'. Too bad the show went on without Alex. But the good news was the show still went on.
I had that kind of 'shitty' experience on my college orientation week. The seniors were very very cruel because they limited the water supply for us while we were forced to do some abhorrent physical activites. They yelled at us, mocked us, and successfully made me really want to literally KILL them so bad. Yes, i still have it in my boiling blood that runs through my veins; the obsession of KILLING those seniors. Or at least kick 'em in the nuts.
They got me dehydrated, i barely blacked out, and at the time they forced me to keep running on and on, my asthma flared up. I was rushed to the medic and allowed to go home earlier. My friend was even worse. Her asthma flared up and she wasn't rushed to the medic, but straight to the hospital. We had the similar experience, at the same time. It's kinda funny, but that's how we met.
I'm a sophomore now. But i know it really sucks to be a freshman. And so does dehydration. So drink well, kids. And DO NOT ever obey the seniors, cause your asthma might flare up. If they mess around with you, kick 'em right in the nuts until they puke their guts.
Fuck the seniors, fuck dehydration!
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Holiday Makes Me Stupid
I got barely perfect grade in the first semester. I thought i would get straight A's, but that little motherfucker called "Basic Logic" really kicked me right in the ass. I got C for that goddamn subject. I wondered why and i realized that i didn't do the assignment. It became one of my biggest regrets.
Although my university is well-known as the full-of-sluts university, but it gives the opportunity for its students to fix their broken grades by attending a short semester.
Short semester lasts for 2 weeks during the final semester break. Yeah, it does ruin your holiday but it heals your academic wounds as well. I wanna resurrect my fallen grade, so i gotta sacrifice my holiday.
After 2 months of holiday and haven't written conventionally, i attended the first day of the short semester. And guess what? I barely couldn't write. I wrote like a toddler. And when my lecturer explained the subject, it's hard as hell to get what she was explaining.
I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me and suddenly i remembered that 2 goddamn months of getting wasted. And yes, holiday does make me stupid.
Although my university is well-known as the full-of-sluts university, but it gives the opportunity for its students to fix their broken grades by attending a short semester.
Short semester lasts for 2 weeks during the final semester break. Yeah, it does ruin your holiday but it heals your academic wounds as well. I wanna resurrect my fallen grade, so i gotta sacrifice my holiday.
After 2 months of holiday and haven't written conventionally, i attended the first day of the short semester. And guess what? I barely couldn't write. I wrote like a toddler. And when my lecturer explained the subject, it's hard as hell to get what she was explaining.
I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me and suddenly i remembered that 2 goddamn months of getting wasted. And yes, holiday does make me stupid.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Little Pieces of History
I felt easily exhausted lately. I was so sick of the low blood pressure. I've taken and eaten the shit that the doctor prescribed and suggested, and still, i was kinda feeling dying.
"Mens sana in corpore sano." Juvenal said, which means 'a healthy mind in a healthy body.' I guess we all know that phrase. The poet views that if you're mentally healthy, then you're physically healthy.
I got too tired to think, so i crashed myself onto the bed. It's so hard to sleep, i wanted to, but i couldn't. People around suggested me to forget coffee for a while, although they know i wouldn't give a fuck. I was feeling like drowning between the pillows, like getting mud sucked in a comfort way.
As i closed my eyes, i was starting to feel the presence of the sparkling shits that i've been through. They're warm and surrounding me, flying in and out of my body holes. They're so welcome.
Those certain times, those particular moments, those little pieces of history. My eyes were closed, but the vision was very unblurred and bright. The feel, sound, smell, and taste were clear as well. I asked myself, "Did i took too many antidepressants?" Cause that experience was psychedelically trippy for sure.
Those old days when my eyes were still sunny as sunday sunshine, everything seemed so colorful. The weather was warmly great, every single second felt so blissful, it's like eternal summer. Every breath i took smelled like violet, and everytime i breathed out, it's like breezing rainbow. Every single food i ate tasted like lollipop. It's like i was high all the time without doing any drugs.
And then she came to me, breathing so close to my neck, introducing herself as the true love. She upgraded those old wonderful days of mine to the highest level. From 'excitingly wonderful' to 'opiately wonderful'. She's like a hypodermic needle, flying in high speed from an unpredictable direction, pierced me right in the major vein, injecting a huge amount of addictive artificial devotion.
All of that cheerful happiness has guided me to lunacy, forced me to completely lose my sanity. My friends noticed something very wrong with me and started judging me. They saw me as a hysterically falling-in-love idiot who was standing right behind the borderline of 'sane' and 'insane'. They might tried to help me out of that maze of affection, but i saw them as a bunch of jealous-ass douchebags who wanted to pull me down into the valley of loneliness.
She brought me the thrilling destructive sweetness, led me to the critical addiction. Her sweetness really made my days, cheered me up, hurted my teeth, got me diabetes, and finally broke my heart. She gently showed me the hurtful reality, revealed the painful truth, and left me agonizing scars all over my heart and soul as her farewell gift, without saying goodbye. The way she arrived and the way she left were contradictory. She built me up when she arrived in my heart, and tragically broke me down when she left my heart rotten. And i was totally lost, eversince.
Those sparkling shits instantly transformed into gloomy shits and suddenly woke me up. I was sweating so bad, breathing heavily, and my broken heart was beating hard and pounding fast. I looked out the window, watched the dark skies, and hope to see UFO, then get abducted by aliens and never coming back. It might be a silly idea, so i wanted to make it simple. I just wanted to sleep forever.
I really didn't know what to do, i felt totally lost. I barely couldn't concentrate on anything. I always lost my focus when reading or watching. So, i turned on my iPod, chose 'Dude Ranch' album by blink-182, and played 'Dammit'. I turned up the volume and a minute later, Hoppus sang the line "Well, i guess this is growing up."
Well.. I guess this is growing up.
"Mens sana in corpore sano." Juvenal said, which means 'a healthy mind in a healthy body.' I guess we all know that phrase. The poet views that if you're mentally healthy, then you're physically healthy.
I got too tired to think, so i crashed myself onto the bed. It's so hard to sleep, i wanted to, but i couldn't. People around suggested me to forget coffee for a while, although they know i wouldn't give a fuck. I was feeling like drowning between the pillows, like getting mud sucked in a comfort way.
As i closed my eyes, i was starting to feel the presence of the sparkling shits that i've been through. They're warm and surrounding me, flying in and out of my body holes. They're so welcome.
Those certain times, those particular moments, those little pieces of history. My eyes were closed, but the vision was very unblurred and bright. The feel, sound, smell, and taste were clear as well. I asked myself, "Did i took too many antidepressants?" Cause that experience was psychedelically trippy for sure.
Those old days when my eyes were still sunny as sunday sunshine, everything seemed so colorful. The weather was warmly great, every single second felt so blissful, it's like eternal summer. Every breath i took smelled like violet, and everytime i breathed out, it's like breezing rainbow. Every single food i ate tasted like lollipop. It's like i was high all the time without doing any drugs.
And then she came to me, breathing so close to my neck, introducing herself as the true love. She upgraded those old wonderful days of mine to the highest level. From 'excitingly wonderful' to 'opiately wonderful'. She's like a hypodermic needle, flying in high speed from an unpredictable direction, pierced me right in the major vein, injecting a huge amount of addictive artificial devotion.
All of that cheerful happiness has guided me to lunacy, forced me to completely lose my sanity. My friends noticed something very wrong with me and started judging me. They saw me as a hysterically falling-in-love idiot who was standing right behind the borderline of 'sane' and 'insane'. They might tried to help me out of that maze of affection, but i saw them as a bunch of jealous-ass douchebags who wanted to pull me down into the valley of loneliness.
She brought me the thrilling destructive sweetness, led me to the critical addiction. Her sweetness really made my days, cheered me up, hurted my teeth, got me diabetes, and finally broke my heart. She gently showed me the hurtful reality, revealed the painful truth, and left me agonizing scars all over my heart and soul as her farewell gift, without saying goodbye. The way she arrived and the way she left were contradictory. She built me up when she arrived in my heart, and tragically broke me down when she left my heart rotten. And i was totally lost, eversince.
Those sparkling shits instantly transformed into gloomy shits and suddenly woke me up. I was sweating so bad, breathing heavily, and my broken heart was beating hard and pounding fast. I looked out the window, watched the dark skies, and hope to see UFO, then get abducted by aliens and never coming back. It might be a silly idea, so i wanted to make it simple. I just wanted to sleep forever.
I really didn't know what to do, i felt totally lost. I barely couldn't concentrate on anything. I always lost my focus when reading or watching. So, i turned on my iPod, chose 'Dude Ranch' album by blink-182, and played 'Dammit'. I turned up the volume and a minute later, Hoppus sang the line "Well, i guess this is growing up."
Well.. I guess this is growing up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)