Bucket List

My bucket list has one thing on it. That one thing, however, is going to be a thousand mile journey, so to speak. Three words. Rock. Am. Ring.

 

Backtracking time. Rock am Ring is a huge celebration in Germany where they have three days of metal bands all just go at it for however long they want. There’s not just metal bands, however. That would be too mundane. They have three different concerts going on at once. And another three at its sister venue, Rock Im Park. 

So play one concert and you’re ready to die, right? NO. Rock am Ring has the best of the best. Names like System of a Down, Avenged Sevenfold, and Bullet for my Valentine have all played at Rock am Ring. There’ll be a huge hike up from my band’s current goal of recording a three song demo to having enough material and fans to go to Germany for a three day rockfest. Then, after our demo, we must get a label and write more songs at the same time. Then record those into a full length studio album. Then tour small, hopefully opening for Epitaph (our dream label) bands much like our own. Big names like Falling in Reverse, Escape the Fat, From First To Last, and Bring me the Horizon. If we do good enough opening, and face it, who gets as excited for an opener than they do for the headliner, then we may headline a few tours. THEN, if we’re REALLY good, we get to Rock am Ring. That, my lead vocalist/ rhythm guitarist Cain and I agree, is when we know we’ve made it in the music industry. 

 

SHAMELESS PROMOTION! 

We hope to have the demo recorded by June, so GIMME YO MONEYS. We gotta make a profit off this so that I can say I have a job now. 

Bullying.

Well, I’ve personally been a constant victim of bullying. I’m not trying to start this off as a “woe is me, shower me with pity” or “think differently of me because I’m a tortured soul” kind of post, but the truth is I’ve been beaten up physically and verbally.

That placed aside, I feel that I have my moments where I don’t think through what I say and/or when I don’t always care. Well, I am an individual, and if I want to wear a Slipknot shirt one day and a Dalek the next, all over a neon blue, coffee stained hoodie, then be it. Also, I’ve never been good at sports. At all. I’ve missed slam dunks that were less than a foot over my reach while standing. True story. Well, it’s all come to haunt me. All that needs to be done is to stare the person(s) in the eye and stand up for your rights as a person. I hate to sound like the same motivational recording stuck on an infinite loop, but seriously. Like an incident today with [name withheld], (s)he told me to say something to his/her face and I did. What now? I posted this blog instead of crying my eyes out.

On the other hand, cyberbullying nowadays is worse, in my opinion. True example: My band has a facebook page (don’t bother checking, recording occurs this summer if our drummer Zach doesn’t reschedule like last year) that a kid who’s been bullying me since I can remember got a hold of. He and his friends all flamed my page (posted hateful and extremely offensive comments) in order to discourage us. Well, I took to writing a song on it, and so far it is the only song I wrote that’s been with me for over a week that I’ve been loving every second of. Either way, just because metal has the connotation “Screamo,” people think it’s all the generic, heavy stuff. Yeah, some bands are that heavy like iwrestledabearonce and Jordan Blake era Skylit Drive, but a good metal band uses screams and singing artistically intertwined. That’s like saying an artist sucks because he is using too much red in his painting. It’s just another tool that this style of music uses, so be it.

In short, although I hate the overuse of this phrase, YOLO (You only live once)

Glad you all survived “Johns Creek’s Make the Roads Unsafe Day!”

Well, I want to preface this with a little intro note. There is a reason, this time, that I waited until Saturday to do this. Reason is…. *drumroll*… I turned 15. Que roses and spotlight.

Well, when we are fifteen, there is one thing Georgian teenagers think of. Do I even need to say it? Permit.  I can now be behind the wheel of a car because I got up at the crack of dawn to go to the DDS. This is something special, but is overshadowed by the year and one day after: the almighty license. No more having mommy drive you around on your dates and embarrass you young boys and girls. However, the permit is not what I’ll remember. It would be my first drive ever that this post is about.

We went to good ol’ River Jail, my father and I, to her parking lots. I was cool on the outside, but my shades hid the fear and nervous blinks from the outside world. So, I’m driving for the first time ever and I almost go over a curb. So instead of talking like a normal person, he screams “AHH! AHHH! AHH! GET OUT OF THE CAR AND LOOK!” in a more scared tone than angry. So I see i was literally centimeters from the curb. After that, I took a few more laps around the lot at an exciting 5 miles per hour, as low as the car went, and then Dad took me home. Needless to say, the first ride is both a euphoria and a moment where everybody defecates masonry.

Talent

I would need to teach music. Not guitar, teaching other people who don’t truly want to practice bugs me, but just a crash course on music theory. First off would be counting. It goes 1, 2, 3, 4 or 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 &, or if you’re crazy, 1 e & a 2 e & a 3 e & a 4 e & a. All of that goes to a tempo, measured in BPM, that most people should be able to feel without former instruction. Then I’d run out of time.

 

I just realized that this song is pretty much my life.

http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Walk-lyrics-Pantera/456C324FC36EB21948256A1C0029E0A6

 

Caution: Heavy

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkFqg5wAuFk

problems

I don’t really have many problems other than transitive and intransitive verbs. Really, taking French and having them reteach us basic grammar is great. Except you relearn parts of speech in one year instead of stretching it out over your academic year.

Assistant

If I had to pick an assistant, I would have Shakespeare write this assignment. That way, it would be much more interesting to the reader(s) than what I have now. I could just be lazy, but it might just work.

How to lose all credibility in an argument

So, my family is on the topic of how Whitney Huston has been on the news all week, and I say that musicians aren’t so important that they stop the world for a week and ignore everything else that happened on the news. No offence, but nobody is. Any ways, my brother says “bull, you were crying over the death of the Rev.” My dad asks who he was, and my brother says the curse words “screamo band.” I politely and maturely say that I find “screamo” to be unbelievably condescending and offensive, so he plays the single heaviest song they recorded. I retort with their many acoustic/ softcore songs. Guess who won.

Alternate Ending

Well, this will most likely not be in Shakespeare’s vision, but you’re getting an Adam style twist on a classic. Let’s dive into it. Btw, some reason my Firefox is set in British English so if I get the alternate spellings, that’s why.

 

It was cold in the sepulchre. Romeo saw Juliet lying cold and motionless on the marble slab, and the haunting spirit of the freshly slain Paris still lied in his blood-coated hands. He wandered over towards the slab, cold and lifeless like his eyes at this moment, and placed his hand on her cheek in a vain hope of finding some warmth. As he removed his hand, and he saw a crimson imprint on her cheek covering her right eye. He kissed her lips, and took his final move ever. Upon drinking the poison, he collapsed on top of Juliet. How fitting, he thought, that I fall onto a deathbed.

 

Upon opening his eyes. Wait! he thought. My eyes are open!

“Where am I?” he wondered aloud. He was going insane. He was just in a sepulchre three seconds ago. And he heard voices. One voice in particular that he just couldn’t help but know.

 

Mercutio.

 

His friend was there in front of him with something in his hands. A black metal cylinder with a grid patterned cover on it and a thick black wire running from the base to two giant boxes stacked atop each other with a third, much smaller box with the same width and thickness atop of it. What was this?

 

“Hey there, slowpoke!” Mercutio repeated. “What’d you do? This is heaven, you know you’re dead, right?”

As Romeo focused his eyes, he saw a few more people by him. Two had things that looked like lutes but were clearly not. They had the same rope plugged into similar boxes. The fourth and final person there was in a suit, had a set of metallic rings tattooed on his neck, and had drums unlike anything he’d seen.

“Who are these people?” Romeo asked dreamily. He surely couldn’t be in heaven, could he? There was no Juliet to be found.

 

“Well,” Mercutio started off, “These people are from the future. The one with the bass guitar is Paul Gray. He is from the band Slipknot, and overdosed or morphine.” Paul lifted his bass in a greeting, his metal mask striking a strange fear in the heart of Romeo. “The other guitarist is Dimebag Darrell, the guitarist from Pantera. He was shot in the head, but not before revolutionising music forever.” Dimebag performed a line of music so fast Romeo couldn’t even pick up what happened. “Lastly, we have The Rev from Avenged Sevenfold. This drummer, well, let him show you.” The Rev played a beautiful but powerful phrase on the drum kit that Romeo couldn’t help but nod his head to.

 

“Now Romeo,” the fallen friend said. “I’ve been watching over you for a while. Soon, you will hear our music, but not now. I’m sure you’ve noticed the lack of a certain woman here. Now see that door behind you? You have a key around your neck. To remain here, throw the key away. But I think I know what you wish to do…”

 

Five months later, Romeo and Juliet now resided in Florence, away from their feuding families. Both houses thought their children dead, but they accepted it after some time. Benvolio escaped with them, and eventually found a woman to call his own. Romeo and Juliet set up a shrine to all the fallen in their short quest for love, and never failed to put flowers on it monthly. They occasionally got letters from Friar Laurence, this time actually delivered by John, updating them of their old home.

 

And Romeo would often look to the sky, and for some reason unbeknownst to him, think of a strange type of music with strange people. He knew Mercutio would inform him when his time came, and wondered what heaven would be like. All he knew, in the end, was that heaven wasn’t heaven without his beloved Juliet.

Pixie Dust

If I had this option, I’d go forward just out of curiosity. I never would want to influence my future, though. I rather let it take me anywhere it lets me, so long as anywhere is out of Georgia. I’d love to move down to Texas, where there’s music and heat, or maybe Tennessee. I got a brief taste of Tennessee once or twice, and I felt at home. Back to the topic, in Tennessee or Texas I’d just go wherever the wind blew me. I’d get a job, or rather see where I got a job, and then do it until I got tired of it. Then I’d find a new job if at all possible, maybe even change states. I’d just stop, and see what it’s like to be able to make these decisions, to be able to be my own person, not my brothers’ shadows.

 

Most important, I’d see if I had found love. Whether it be a woman, music, cinematography, or a world tour. I’d just want to have the passion in my heart to do something.