what really happened to suburbia

the thing is, no one is really all that good at listening. 

because no matter how many times you play an A sharp, 

you keep telling yourself that it is an A. 

and the A sharp won't fit in the key of C. 

for three years I've been looking forward to the next two weeks

but for three years I've been forgetting how to breathe. 

now I've told the story enough times that I'm suffocating on hate and emotions that I can't remember who created. 

music is the only thing I know. 

and I'm forgetting how it sounds. 

all I hear is calls against the few

and cries from the hurting 

and the N word is still funny to you after it has been whipped into submission for an entire population. 

and teachers who don't know who they are block out the music.

because we are supposed to learn from those who have less maturity. 

because we've walked to hell and back and this year 2 of us didn't make it. 

because we are supposed to learn from those who grew up when aids meant being gay. 

for three years my eyes have been closed. 

suburbia ended because music was turned to pride and pride turned to jealousy 

and I just wanted the sounds. 

but I was to worried of losing the notes,

to see that I was always play A sharp,

and not A. 

but you see suburbia is just an analogy to high  school because the beautiful things always fade to sharp. 

and with our eyes closed you miss the music. 

and you miss the beautiful girls in 4th period that you've only talked to once. 

and you miss high school. 

for an old friend

this one is for Abigail. sophomore year we became the best of friends, and she was the first person I ever talked to into the wee hours of the morning. and on her birthday I learned how to dance. and then I developed a large enough crush on her to...have a big crush. idk. but I think it got too big because we didn't talk for a while after we had a dtr. so sorry Abby. 

anyway. 

I love A. and her blog made me lover her anymore. 

it made me cry three times. 

and not like a single tear kind of cry, 

but like streaming down my face kind of cry. 

the reality of ROAD TRIP tugged on heart strings, as if it was written for all those lost friends, not the friend that lost them. and that was incredibly important. 

OVERDUE was the most tender declaration of love I've ever read, and I just loved it a lot. definitely cried during this one. 

COVERED HEARTS. 

TIC-TAC-TOE was the kind of post that hits you in the race really really really hard and reminds you that waking up and smelling the roses is the best thing in life, even though the poem has nothing to do with waking up or with roses. 

HUMANS AND HOSPITALS is a post that should be posted on every wall of every building in every country because everyone needs to smile more. and people need to feel more. 

I can honestly say that I've never been creative enough to do something like this, so props to you Abigail (or Abby? like I know you hadn't decided on your birthday but that was in November so have you decided since then?)

also, coincidentally i read the entire blog whilst watching the rain, and it worked so perfectly.
furthermore, I listened to the album Flaws by Bombay Bicycle Club and it was a match made in heaven. Basically the best soundtrack for your words, ever.

unknown to the outside world, this photo is actually of me and Abby (Abigail), pre-Suburbia.

finally, these quotes are the kinds that will find themselves on tumblr someday, I think. 

but i've learned a sunrise won't break through till morning,

and a sunset won't set till dusk.

so it seems i need to start somewhere or else my words will never spark.

i watched mothers rush in with smiles larger than the baby they had been carrying for 9 months.

maybe mocking is easier than learning to accept.

play middle c like you toiled with her heart

second chances were guitar strings

and you never learned how to play them

because i didn't want to go to that funeral

so, i'll stretch this metaphor across the universe 80 times
40 rounds for you, 40 for me.

she was purple 

but they were blue





Abigail (Abby), your blog graced my eyes in a way that no other blog has, and I can say that in complete honestly. Really this shouldn't even be for a grade, because everyone deserves to know that what they create is beyond beautiful, and MYLOMBARDSTREET is a kind of beautiful that everyone needs.

This is for an old friend.

This is for Ms. Newell.