Testaments

The glamorous, binge-drinking contemporaries of mine save their most precious memories in photographs, showing to all their rose-tinted memories (or lack thereof) of what was probably a fun night. I can't relate to these people, I can't relate to incessant picture-taking, it seems so narcissistic.

Popular kids save their memories in photos; I save mine in these silly-ass entries and more importantly, song. While an older track of mine, Hyr00l (rough) may not have any relevant thematic material to what I went through at the time, listening to it instantly brings me back to a time where I subsided off of cigarettes, ramen packets and Jeno's pizza. A time where I loathed my existence, for the simple reason that it wasn't good enough for the one person where it mattered. A time spent playing Oblivion all day, sucking on black tea mints, eating Pizza Mia (which I now cannot stand). A time where I was part of something, a fucking musical collective, a band where I wasn't the sole musical entity. A time when Trev and I were close, and he was the best friend I had.

The casual listener hears only a nintendocore gimmick; I hear the memories attached to the time period. I yearn not for those days, but reminisce regardless, because those days have molded me (along with every other trial and tribulation in life) into who I am today. In a sense, I'm grateful to have undergone those dark times in my life.

Now for a completely different change of pace, I'd like to be nonchalant enough to wake wanton picture after picture. It seems nice. Maybe inebriation would help.