I pray that you don’t wake up.
I pray that the blood on my hands isn’t what it seems.
I pray that I never had to be here.

I pray that everything back home is alright.
I pray that I don’t become too deep in the brutality and carnage.
I pray that this is easier than it looks.

My faith is growing thin with every shot from my gun.

I pray that my prayers will be answered sooner or later.
I pray that no more die in the fiery cold blood of the enemy.
I pray that I’m not existing in this situation.

I pray that my courage is enough to let me survive.
I pray that I don’t end up with my articles sent home.
I pray that there’s some way to cope.

My faith is wearing thin with every bullet pierced and inflicted.

I pray that I return to the light and glory of my former self, before this atrocity stormed in.
I pray that this goes away, my weapon as a deadly crutch isn’t as convenient as it seems.
I pray that the dependency on this hypocritical war will pass on to a better cause, this is too much.

My faith is slipping away with every body I destroy and round I fire.

I pray that you can accept me and what I’ve become, what the aftershock has left me with.
I pray that I don’t become swamped under the tremendous guilt and hardship, something you’ll truly never know.
I pray that I make it out alive, to see my love again.

I pray that I can wash this guilt and betrayal from my hands, from my dreams.
I pray that the sun doesn’t rise any time soon, it’s too damned in the morning sun here, makes me ever-aware of why we’re all here risking our sanity.
I pray that I’m not burned at the stake for my crimes, my age isn’t a consequence, my God and country are to blame.

My faith is deteriorating as quick as I can close my eyes and pull the trigger.

I pray that I can be forgiven, despite my questioning.
I pray that there is some way to explain, I never wanted this, it never wanted me.
I pray that my prayers are answered, that I make it home to see you again.

My faith can’t be stolen anymore than it already has, my believing in the good of other people.

You have no choice when you’re staring back at the evil and aggression of another human being. If they fire, you must be ready to fire back even more. Kill or be killed.

It’s too cold to breathe, but just the right degrees to whisper.
Whisper with me among the grass, draped to the seed in snow.
Our attempts to breathe sends that chill of familiarity down our throats, cooling the intricate contours within.

I think we should continue to whisper.
Whisper with me, your hand is unnaturally warm in mine.
Our hearts beat in our chests so hard, it’s audible above our whispers.

Stop and take in the sound with me, breathing is our greatest mistake so far.

It’s just too much to ask, but it’s just the right time to breathe.
Whisper with me, inhale and exhale as much as recommended.
Our attempts to stare at the sunlight through the swollen clouds sends that feeling of reassurance throughout.

I love the way you stare, look into my eyes forever.
Whisper with me, take all this contagious static away.
Our hearts pound in the beat of breathing, it took us long enough.

Stop and take in the view with me, breathing is our greatest triumph so far.

Define this beauty with all the chaos and watch it melt into a thousand stars.

It seems like it’s been “forever” since I’ve written something music-related. But it honestly hasn’t, it’s just a new year.

I have a new-found respect for music. I have a new-found respect for bands I’d either never heard of, or wasn’t a big fan of before. For some unknown reason, I’m drawn to bands I wasn’t drawn to before, and honestly never thought I’d like. Things definitely changed. For the better.

It’s safe to say that I really like Flyleaf now. I mean, I never fully got into them in 2005 when their self-titled CD came out and everyone seemed to fall in love with them. Strangely, I just didn’t. I’ll admit, I’d fallen in love with “Fully Alive” and “Breathe Today”, but never got into them as much as I would some other band. Call it the rebel in me, but it just wasn’t something I was listening to. Now, that my musical tastes have evolved, along with the help of their new album, I have a massive amount of respect for them. 

I honestly had no idea about their new CD, Memento Mori, until I saw the video for “Again”, and saw the CD on iTunes. When I heard the beginning of the song, I immediately fell in love with it. As it progressed, I fell even deeper in love. Lead singer Lacey Mosley’s voice is just incredible. Her vocals are a lot cleaner and easier to understand. She’s improved on the vocal front, and paired with the rawness of the instruments, it’s just amazing. The whole album is swirling around the need for freedom, while still incorporating their faith and religion in every intricate lyric.

I’m not usually a fan of Christian rock bands, but Flyleaf is definitely an exception. For some reason, I always thought that Christian bands would sing about how their religion was better than every other religion, but that’s not the case with Flyleaf. I guess that’s what I get for assuming. Made an ass out of myself.

Obviously, I’m not as keen on the concept of religion as the next person might be, but music is music, and if it’s good, then it’s good. It honestly shouldn’t matter what type of faith is put into it, it all goes through your earbuds/headphones the same way anyway.

Music is music, and it’s definitely safe to say that I’m a new-found fan of Flyleaf.

The next band on my rather lengthy appreciation list is another female-fronted band, known to the majority of the world as Paramore.

It is extremely safe to say that I love Paramore again. I first fell in love with them when I saw the video for “Pressure”. I honestly had no idea who they were at the time, but the song just grabbed me. I then fully recognized them when I  heard the song “Emergency”. One of my friends bought me the Warped Tour Compilation 2006 CD, and that song was featured on it. I instantly fell victim to Hayley Williams’s one-of-a-kind voice, and the band’s all around sound.

After their debut, All We Know Is Falling was Riot!, and once Riot! came out, it seemed like everyone was listening to them and saying that they were a Paramore fan. Now, I have absolutely nothing wrong with someone who listens to Paramore because I do too, but things like that aggravate me. With the songs “Misery Business” and “Crushcrushcrush” being what everyone was listening to, I stopped listening to Paramore for a while. Call it stupid, or dissing the band, but I needed to be away from what everyone else was currently listening to.

Despite the fact I stopped listening to Paramore for a while, there’s no sure-fire way to ever stop listening forever. Needless to say, it’s kind of impossible not to listen to Paramore, especially since their newest release, Brand New Eyes.

Paramore prove that they’re so much more than the band they were in the beginning. Having dealt with conflicts, and the near break-up of the band, they’re definitely stronger, and the music on Brand New Eyes totally shows it. Hayley’s voice is better than ever, fitting perfectly with the new-found aggression and strength. The videos for “Ignorance” and “Brick By Boring Brick” should be good demonstrations. Proving all the more that Paramore have grown up not only as a band, but as individuals as well.

I congratulate Paramore on finding their brand new eyes and only becoming stronger. Music is music whether you accept it or not.

The next band I have a huge amount of appreciation for is hardcore act, A Skylit Drive.

I had never heard of Skylit until earlier last year. I found them courtesy of iTunes, and figured I’d check them out. Upon my first listen, the element that surprised and grabbed me the most was lead singer Michael “Jag” Jagmin’s voice. His rather high-pitched voice incorporates with drummer Cory La Quay’s screams beautifully. I think if his voice sounded any different, then it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be A Skylit Drive.

I immediately found myself falling into a trance listening to their EP, She Watched The Sky. All 7 songs are amazing, and their full-length debut, Wires…And The Concept of Breathing, released in 2008, is no exception. Everything about Wires is crushing and brutal, while is managing to be incredibly crafted and beautiful. I find myself listening to “Knights Of The Round”, “Wires…And The Concept Of Breathing”, “I’m Not A Thief, I’m A Treasure Hunter”, and “All It Takes For Your Dreams To Come True” countless times a day.

Their newest release Adelphia, has a very different sound than Wires but it only proves that A Skylit Drive can break out of their genre a little and still create something hard-hitting and original. Jag’s vocals are clearly a lot cleaner and seem to be more present than they were on Sky and Wires. The vocals were obviously always there, but now they seem to be the main focus on the album, rather than Cory’s screams combined with the clean vocals.

Despite the mixed reviews I’ve read about Adelphia, my mind hasn’t changed about the band or the CD. The band is truly original, and Adelphia is genius. Every song is its own entity; no two songs sound the same, making them a stand-out among most bands today. The song “Prelude To A Dream” makes me swoon, and “Those Cannons Could Sink A Ship” and “Eva The Carrier” make me attempt to sing along. Not very good, I might add. The beginning of “Prelude” is just amazing. Jag’s voice is so soft you almost can’t hear what he’s singing, and then the screaming comes to proceed into a damn-good song. The lyrics in “Cannons” and “Eva” are both infectious and you’re kind of entitled to sing along because they’re so catchy.

While I think it was pretty hard to top Wires, it’s safe to say that Adelphia does come close. I love Wires, but I’m beginning to fall in love with Adelphia. Only time will tell which one I end up loving more.

Kudos to A Skylit Drive. Music is music, and I’m happy to say that I’m a fan.

The next band on my pretty lengthy kudos list is Every Time I Die.

I’d more than likely seen them a million times before on TV or something. I just never knew who they were. I remember I’d seen the videos for the songs “Kill The Music” and “The New Black” on FUSE and I thought nothing of it. “The New Black” was featured on the same Warped Tour Compilation 2006 as was Paramore’s “Emergency”, I just don’t think I ever took the time to listen. I figured that they were just like any other band out there. Every song sounded like a carbon copy of itself. Once again, that’s exactly what I get for assuming. Made an ass out of myself yet again.

This new-found liking for Every Time I Die came accompanied with their new CD, New Junk Aesthetic. The first song I’d ever fully listened to by them was “Pretty Dirty”, and that song caught me. With all honesty, despite the fact that I had the song on my iPod and all, I forgot about them once I erased the contains and started from scratch. The song that truly hooked and held me was ”We’rewolf”. The overall song itself was unlike what I was used to hearing. The lyrics were twisted into some kind of new perfection, and Keith Buckley’s voice was actually pretty refreshing.

I knew absolutely nothing about New Junk Aesthetic until I’d heard the song “Roman Holiday”, and read an article in the November issue of Revolver. Leave it to Revolver to fill me in on things in the music world I more-than-often miss. In the article, it talked about how the CD had a more rock-and-roll type of sound as oppose to their previous releases.

Their debut EP, The Burial Plot Bidding War, as well as their full-length debut Last Night In Town, had the hardcore sound they became famous for. While the albums that followed, Hot Damn!, Gutter Phenomenon, and The Big Dirty still radiated that hardcore/metalcore sound, they also incorporated a Southern-rock tinged sound in the guitar department, and Keith proved to have a killer singing voice, in addition to his signature screaming. Compared to their other albums, Aesthetic is definitely more rock-and-roll, but that’s not a bad thing at all. It still shows how talented they are as musicians, and that they still have the “hardcore/metalcore” sound people usually associate them with, just with a different kind of intensity.

Regardless of how New Junk Aesthetic sounds, where it be rock-and-roll, hardcore, or a strange combination of both, there’s no doubting that it’s well-crafted, with flawless instruments and Keith’s better-than-ever vocals. There’s also no doubting that it’s just down-right kickass. Every song is well pieced together, where one dims off in brilliance, the other picks up the light not shy of a few seconds after. It’s honestly no surprise that I probably go from “Wanderlust”, “White Smoke”, “Buffalo 666″, and “Goddamn Kids These Days” and back again in a 40 minute class period of gym. Those songs alone are that awesome and badass.

I would like to congratulate Every Time I Die for being kickass, and for once again reminding me that you shouldn’t judge a band before you actually listen to them.

The last but definitely not least band on my finally finished, very lengthy appreciation list is the Danish act Volbeat.

Once again, with all brutal honesty accounted for here, I had no idea that Volbeat was even a band until I saw something about them in the back of one of my many issues of Revolver magazine. I didn’t look back on it until I found myself looking for a new and interesting band to listen to, which wasn’t until a couple months ago. Last October actually. It’s honestly kind of weird saying ‘last’ October because it still feels like 2009, but that’s not correct. It’s 2010. But enough about the fact that it’s a new year, back to what makes Volbeat original and one-of-a-kind.

Like the majority of new bands I’ve listened to, I had no idea what to expect when it came to Volbeat. I didn’t assume I had with Every Time I Die or Flyleaf, as previously stated. I just listened…and I found myself in almost a whole other niche in time. Everything about their sound resonates the old-school music that came before them, and that’s not a bad thing at all. They’re like a violent blend of Metallica and The Misfits, along with a splash of Johnny Cash and Elvis mixed in. I think that most people aren’t drawn to the old-school sound because nowadays it seems like it’s all about the next big sub-genre.

When I first listened to Volbeat, I was taken aback (in the purest contradiction of those words) by frontman Michael Poulsen’s voice. The deepness of his voice sort of reminded me of the vocals of Type O Negative lead, Peter Steele, even though their vocal styles are no way near the same. Despite the partial coincidence, his voice is the most unique thing I’ve heard in a while. His voice wraps around the crushing drums and heavy guitars perfectly, only in a way that he can. Volbeat wouldn’t be the same kind of band if his vocals were different. 

Their latest release, Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood is just amazing in every way possible. Amazing is a word I use a lot when talking about music, and when I say it’s amazing, it truly is. Everything about it is fresh and original, while still having enough venom and bite to surprise and entice. It’s not your typical CD by a band that’s sporting today’s latest sub-genre, nothing even remotely close…

Most bands today, with the exception of a great few, are afraid to break away from the genre they’re currently in and take a chance. I have an extreme amount of respect for bands/musicians that break the mold, while still managing to stay true to their signature sound. It’s like, their signature sound combined with something new and innovative, to create something new that’s all their own. The bands that refuse to go out of the box, and crush the hell out of that mold, seem like they’re either scared to lose fans or afraid of what the so-called “scene” will think. They’re not living up to their full potential.

…Volbeat isn’t one of those bands. If you thought their brilliant, fresh sound was only on Gangsters & Blood, then you’re wrong. Their debut CD, The Strength/The Sound/The Songs released in 2005, displays the same kind of bone-breaking mix of rockabilly, metal, and punk, giving Volbeat their one-of-a-kind sound. I honestly never thought about what it would sound like, mixing three different types of music that all had similarities, but now I’m happy to say that I know exactly what it sounds like. Strength/Sound/Songs is a 15-song joyride that’s just as explosive, as it is in-your-face. It has the same brutality as Gangsters & Blood, only it’s more gritty and rough around the edges. Their follow-up, 2007’s Rock The Rebel/Metal The Devil is no exception to the originality and impressive sound. According to my iPod, I’ve listened to the song “Radio Girl” off Rebel/Devil over 30 times, and something tells me that it’s true. It’s a great song; the whole album is pretty great.

Out of all three releases, Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood is the best. When I first heard “Still Counting”, the first Volbeat song I’d heard…ever, I was in complete shock and awe because of how incredible it sounded. The first thing I heard was the almost Southern sound of the guitar, then the drums came in to coincide with it perfectly. With the assistance of Michael’s branded vocals, the song then totally does a 360 and guitars and drums are leading a full-scale assault on your ears. The title track, ”Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood” and “Back To Prom”, almost remind me of the 1950s’. Just the whole feel and sound of the songs echo back to a time vintage cars and gorgeous pin-up girls. “Hallelujah Goat” and “Wild Rover Of Hell” beckon to the metal sound that came before them, executed in perfect heart-pounding harmony. “Find That Soul” reminds me of the Nightmare Before Christmas. I honestly don’t know why, but the feel of the song reminds me of the part in the movie where Santa is confronted by the Boogieman, and then the song proceeds to play and that’s when you know that Santa isn’t going anywhere. Call me crazy, but that’s what I thought of when I first heard the song. No matter what the song reminds you of, it’s awesome nonetheless. As is all of Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood.

I take my hat of to Volbeat for being the most original thing this way out of Denmark. Music is music, and I’m without a doubt a Volbeat fan.

I’m happy that my musical tastes changed because if they didn’t, I don’t think I’d be listening to the great bands I just expressed my appreciation for. I’m happy it changed for the better.

Music is the safest haven. When the rain falls too hard to think and the snow falls too lightly to hear a whisper, you’ll always have its comfort.

I dreamt that I was alone.

I dreamt that I was standing on the edge of this town we call home.
I dreamt that I was in the silence and oblivion of the forest.
I dreamt that the sun had cut through the sky, illuminating my bone-white face.

I dreamt that the sky was as dark as the deepest ocean, washing over the dying dawn.
I dreamt that you were with me.
I dreamt that we danced.

I dreamt that we danced on the pinpricks of the night.
I dreamt that we danced in the anatomy of the moonlight.
I dreamt that we were dancing on the edge of this town we call home.

I dreamt that we were together.

I opened my eyes and found myself standing on the edge of this city we call home.
I opened my eyes and found you in my arms.
I opened my eyes and everything was exactly how I dreamt…Because I had never dreamt at all.

You’re here with me, this is truly real.
We’re meant to be.
Simply meant to be.

The smell of smoke and ashes still lingers.

It blows ever-so gently into the clearing.
The clearing is empty and this emptiness is ever-present.

The smell of smoke and ashes still lingers.

This is where you’ll find me.
Where the Autumn leaves change from orange to red.
It’s that time of year.

The smell of smoke and ashes smolder on.

It’s the only evidence of what used to be.
This is still where I used to be.
Can you feel it?
See it even?

The smell of smoke and ashes smolder on.

The trees are burned all the way to the sky.
The flames touched the invisible gates of a place unknown to me.
They touched the clouds and cut straight through.
The beautiful Autumn leaves whisper my name.
I blow throughout and intertwined in the breeze.

The smell of smoke and ashes refuses to fade.

I exploded in ashes, only to rise again.
I rise among the ash in which I explode.
I don’t speak, I didn’t ask.
Can you still feel me?
See me?

The smell of smoke and ashes refuses to fade.

You know damn well where to find me

You’re walking on the edge of the blade.
I’m staring down the barrel of this gun.

What led to this?
We’re divided.
It’s not cut down the middle anymore.
I’m not sure it ever was.
My love for you is torn asunder by my love for the one you hate.
This war is never-ending.
I’m not sure what caused it.
All I know is that I’m caught in between.
This could end any minute now.
I’m trying not to count down the last seconds we have left.
Do we still have time, or did we miscalculate this whole pact among strangers?
I think it might be too late to tell.
My whole world is like a sky over a city ablaze, ready to shatter without warning.

Divided.
Never-ending.
Chaotic.

You’re walking on the edge of the blade.
I’m staring down the barrel of the gun.
This all ends with our hearts in our throats and the moon on high.
My love is eclipsed…

Let the wolves descend.

We dance so shamelessly on the frozen dust at our feet.
The moon is so high and vibrant in the skies.
How long will it last?
How long before we become carbon copies of the substance below us?
We scream all our regrets, and break the last of the glass.
How long will we stay this way?

Forget me not.
Forget me never.

The skies abruptly turn away from the night, refusing any advances to stay.
Turning burning orange and beautiful blood-red, we seep into each other’s eyes.
Losing each other in the rising sun, we hold on tight.
We become as one with the ashes and disappear into the morning skies.

Forget me not.
Forget me never.

This is forever.

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
It’s far too dark to see what’s beyond the water and skylines.
But I know what’s there.
What will happen if we jump?
Will we be disconnected, but still somehow there?
What will happen if we take the risk?

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
Enveloped in all the static of a timeline torn apart.
There’s distance between us and them, you and me.
What will happen if we run away?
Will we be disconnected, but still somehow there?
What will happen if we take the risk?

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
We won’t take the fall, we can’t.
I’m standing on the edge of forever.
We will run away, we have to.

We’re standing on the edge of this city.
Static is all the binds.
We’re standing on the edge of forever.

You need to accept it.

Procrastination. It’s completely normal. Almost like human nature. Almost, not quite yet. People become preoccupied with a hundred different things at once or something called laziness takes over and what needs to get done won’t be finished ’til the last-minute. Sadly, I have succumb to dreaded procrastination more than once, but for some reason I think that streak of surrendering is somehow coming to an end.

I’ll be completely honest: I’m not a big fan of research papers. The first research paper I had to do was last school year, and it wasn’t that fun. Being a new school year now, I have to do another required paper. Thankfully, this paper is easier and not due at the end of the year, as with the latter. There is a topic, not a thesis. An author, not an issue that we agree or disagree with.

Needless to say, this year’s research paper is on an author of our choosing or one that we were reading. Chosen by the student, nonetheless. It seemed like most people picked the first author that came to their head, like they didn’t really think about. Their brains just said ‘write down this name and pass the paper to the next person.’ I had no idea what author I would do a paper on. I had about five lined up, with obviously one being the victor. Unsure which author should be cut from my list, I chose two. Yeah, that probably sounds like a hassle or that I’m being a ‘teacher’s pet’ or something, but that’s not it at all. I thought the only way to get some kind of point across would be to do two papers on two completely different authors.

I have to admit, I was kind of surprised by the reactions I got when I was asked by fellow students what author I was doing my paper on. It’s not like the answer was different each time, it was the same every time. Dante Alighieri and Hunter S. Thompson. I got this bleak, almost dumbfounded look each and every time. Granted, I didn’t fully know about Dante until I saw something on the History Channel. I knew that he wrote Inferno, but didn’t know THAT much about him. As with Thompson, I didn’t know he wrote Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas until I saw the movie starring the beloved Johnny Depp. I did a little research after seeing the movie, thus finding even more about him. So, I guess I can’t really say that I’m surprised, but it sort of just shows that either I read too much or other people don’t read at all.

If anything really surprised me, though, it would have to be the fact that I’ve already gotten the majority of the information on my idols. Which isn’t something I usually do. For my previous research paper, I procrastinated and I felt like it wasn’t the best I could write, or write and research. I just flat-out wasn’t very happy with it, and I actually want to be happy with the things I write. Whether it be recreational creativity or not.  The entire reason why I’m starting this paper a month early. Call it me breaking the curse of procrastination or not, but my motivation is probably at its best right now. I can’t say the same thing for volleyball, though. My motivation for that is still up in the air. 

My motivation for writing definitely doesn’t lack foundation and the breakdown.

A while ago I said that the volleyball that was played during my gym class was pretty boring and not very amazing. I think we’re getting better, though. I’m not sure if I can say the same for myself, considering the fact I got hit in the head with the ball in our first real class game Thursday.

It’s typical protocol to wear the required gym attire to class every day. A pair of shorts and T-shirt, along with the occasional hoodie. Pretty simple. The majority of the time, I’m in the proper wear of surf shorts and the random shirt of the day. Thursday, I had my black shorts and dark purple Nightmare Before Christmas tee. My iPod shuffle was attached at my hip, as it has been ever since I realized I get pretty motivated through loud music. I didn’t bother to play it during the game, though. I figured I would try and actually pay attention for once. It didn’t get me very far…

I’ll admit, volleyball games have gotten better. The people playing actually do something now, with the exception on some days. I’m hardly ever bored when playing. That is, unless there’s another class in the gym, and everyone decides to gather to the net. Something like that can get really annoying if you’re wanting to actually play a game. With that once-and-a while-occasion, it’s a pretty good day in gym usually. All and all, I’d say we’ve improved.

…I’m not even sure how far into the game we were. All I knew was that the team I was on wasn’t hitting anything for a while and the other team was winning. We were obviously losing. The ball was coming right at me, which was probably the second or third time it’d came to me the entire game. The hit would’ve been perfect if I hadn’t move forward. Thinking I would move up so it didn’t hit the ground, I quickly moved up a little so I could ‘bump’ it. Bad move. I moved too far up and instead of hitting off my wrists as it usually did, the blue and white volleyball hit me on the right side of my dark red head. At first, I honestly wasn’t sure what happened. My team mates were giving me grief because I didn’t hit it, and the fact that I got hit in the head, added injury to insult. I quickly blew it off; something stupid like that didn’t matter anyway. I was definitely reminded of the game for the rest of the day. The collision that involved my head and the ball gave me the craziest headache, and maybe even knocked a little bit of sense into me. Only time will tell.

Whether be out of sheer laziness, a headache, or the fact that it was Friday, I didn’t bring my gym clothes yesterday. I had my shorts and shirt in my gym bag, all ready to be worn come third period. I just happened to ‘accidently’ forget them on the couch. Okay, it was all on purpose, but that gesture made me realize something. I’m a lot better at volleyball when I’m not appropriately dressed for gym. I walked out of the locker room in my super comfy, super fuzzy black sweater and Chiodos blasting in my ears…I played pretty awesome. For some reason, I was actually motivated to play, despite the fact I was just in regular clothes. Who knew that comfortable clothes and loud music could be a motivator for volleyball?

I exited the gym a little late, but it was worth it. My wrists were red under the sleeves of my black sweater and music still going through my green earbuds. It was a good 40 minutes of gym.

My motivation for sports lacks foundation and the breakdown.