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and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Printable Version +- grimmoon (https://grimmoonrp.com) +-- Forum: archive (https://grimmoonrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=80) +--- Forum: ooc archives (https://grimmoonrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=82) +---- Forum: Intro to Bearbones (https://grimmoonrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=3) +----- Forum: Creative Center (https://grimmoonrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=14) +----- Thread: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing (/showthread.php?tid=2017) |
Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Legends - 01-28-2018 babe thank you but 3/5 of this is just depressed journal entries 1/5 is some good-ish one shots the last 1/5 are things i will never finish Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Legends - 02-10-2018 [align=center] a [div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"]feburary 4th, 2013 / legends get sappy over a band? it's more likely than you thinkthis is basically a love letter about my favorite band. a "letter" i've been trying to mentally plan out for the last six days and have already scrapped once but decided to write tonight in wake of telling crows that i would. this week was (besides the eleventh anniversary of infinity on high) the five year anniversary of the day they came back. the day they lit their legacy on fire and rose from the ashes. feb. 4th, 2013. if you are at all a fan of this band you may be familiar with the above picture. this photo was taken at 6am in the morning fall out boy went out to old comiskey park in chicago and decided to literally burn their old records and symbolically rise out of the flames. that day was when the future of fall out boy started. without writing a novella about my Tragic Backstory of how this band and their music helped me through a bunch of bad shit, which they most certainly did and i cannot thank them enough for, the real reason i am writing this is to try and put into words how much i love this band. i cannot express completely what it feels like when you find something that just clicks. something you just vibe with on a very stripped down and raw level. that is fall out boy for me. i don't know why but i have yet to experience that with any other band in their entirety. i have found songs and occasionally albums that i feel resonate with me on such a personal or aesthetic level that i have no choice but to add them to a narcissistically motivated playlist about myself but there has not been another band thus far that has completely made me feel mortal and glad to be alive. patrick stump may have been the first person i really completely loved. his smile, to this day, makes my chest experience all the heart emojis at once and his voice still makes me feel safe and not alone. pete wentz was my first therapist. his lyrics gave me something to relate and to hold on to. something to call mine while everyone around me beat mindlessly in time with the world's drum. i clung to those lyrics like they would be my last words. joe trohman and andy hurley were the first people i felt like i could trust with something as valuable as my broken character. this band fixed me, or rather, helped me fix myself. to this day fall out boy remains my favorite band. my music taste has expanded exponentially thank god but this one thing remains the same. i truly love them and not only for everything they stand for and believe in but for the art they put out and the lives they have changed. that would not be possible if they hadn't come back and started their revolution. there is no need to go into the finer details of how successful they were in their comeback and how well they did and do today because this isn't necessarily about that. this is about a band that reemerged from the shadows and started making music for themselves and the sad kids again. a band that wouldn't have done this if they didn't love what they were making, and that is what sets fall out boy apart. when fall out boy returned old fans came back with pride and new fans found a band they could call their own. we'd been missing them to death and they got to see that believers never die. Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - crows - 02-10-2018 cries Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - sunrise skater kid. - 02-10-2018 (02-10-2018, 06:37 AM)crows link Wrote: cries Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Legends - 02-14-2018 [align=center][div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"] some of my favorite fall out boy songs - based mostly off of lyrcis (this is a draft that i wanted to get rid of, may or may not finish, sorry it's trash) Bishops Knife Trick - shit. this song. it's a perfect ending. it pulls every emotion from this album packs it together in a hug of cohesive sound. every time i hear this song it's like a wave of relief that the band is going to be there and that they aren't leaving anytime soon. my favorite lyrics are "And I'm yours 'Til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away" (because of the reason that this song, to me, is the soft ending to this album but a reassurance it is not the last) and "These are the last blues we're ever gonna have Let's see how deep we get The glow of the cities below lead us back To the places that we never should have left" because i just image the band flying to chicago in a plane and being content to finally be home. there is also the whole imagery of driving away from your problems as i really #relate to that. also, the idea that this is the last time we are going to be sad and i really think about the band and how far they've come. The Last Of The Real Ones - A Solid Banger. without talking about everything, a lot in my life right now i feel like i am surrounded by fake friends or people that just Don't Care, ya know. this song, to me, is about that one person who just understands. they Get It. They are the last of the real ones. they could be a person's s/o or best friend. and you love this person in spite of their glitches and loose screws. maybe they aren't okay and maybe you aren't either but you Aren't Okay Together and that is a powerful bond. i just love this song Jet Pack Blues - this was the first fall out boy song i remember falling in love with. this song became what i was and how i saw myself. Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - crows - 02-14-2018 im sxcited im ready and mf ckreiang jet pack , ,b,iues Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Legends - 03-09-2018 [align=center][div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"]i've had this as a solid idea for a couple days, don’t know what it is or what’s going to become of it. "No no this is what it is" he laughed, his voice almost trailing off before his thoughts caught up and he continued, "for everyone, the world either works for you or against you because you only see the world from your point of view. Everyone else is a supporting character or an NPC. People believe that they are important because of their perspective as a person since they have two eyes and brain that interprets the world around them. When people are said to," he lifted his hands and did air quotes around his next words, "think they are the center of the world, it's because they are. They are the center of their world. Everyone works for them, with them, or against them. That's why people are selfish because the world has either benefited them or taken from them. It's like driving on the interstate and thinking that you need to make it home because you have a family or you're applying for college or you have friends who need you but you are just one of hundreds of thousands of other people who believe that they are just as important but could care less if a car in front of them or behind them drives off the road, as long as the wreck doesn't harm them. People always preach that everyone is important and has a soul and it worth time but in a world of ten billion people how can that be true when there are people saving lives as doctors and bringing joy as actors or creating art and changing the narrative and others work desk jobs or at grocery stores. You tell me who is more important out of those two groups.†he finished and pulled a french fry out of the bag sitting on his legs. “You think about this a lot huh?†she said, looking forward at the single car she had taken to get here that was sitting under the empty park’s lone orange street light. She pushed back the swing she was sitting on with one foot so that she was lightly moving back and forth, before taking a sip out of the plastic bottle of green tea she had been absently holding. “How could I not? And It’s not like anyone else is going to think about something so existential,†he replied smiling slightly, once again going through the realization of how depressing his amassed train of thought about the meaning of life was, however, it was more important that she was smiling, even if the topic was depressing. It was a good thing he could tell her about it, she never shut him out, but it wasn’t like she let him in either. “Fry ?†he asked and tilted the bag towards her. She took one and ate it, going against much of her practice and preach gospel of tea and homemade salads. It could’ve been perceived as diet culture and maybe, underneath the surface, it was but on the surface, it was 'a healthy lifestyle', luckily it made her feel and look good plus the aesthetic was a bonus that even he had admired before. “I’m-†he started, trying to fill the gap of silence that was creeping upon the swingset the two were sitting at, “sorry about everything that’s happened with Hannah, what she did…†he trailed off, knowing this was hardly a good conversation topic but he’d already started so there was no stopping now, “are you okay?†“Yeah. Just stuck in the after-shock,†she said right after he finished, leaving almost no space between his question and her answer. She took another sip of the green tea, avoiding adding anything else on the topic. “How about you and the track star’s sister. Not half bad.†she quipped, switching the conversation back to him, as she no longer wanted to linger in the “after-shock†at the swingset. “Me and the track star’s sister ? You make it sound like something’s actually happened. You and I both know nothing ever will. I can’t talk to very many people, much less her. She’s one of the popular ones remember." he said somewhat dejectedly, as every word held a common truth. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’ll never happen,†she said, still looking forward into the dark, into the night that seemed to be everywhere around her. It had consumed the trees and blocked out the stars. “Hey !†he interjected and turned to look at her, a slight smile appearing on his lips. “You’re supposed to be supportive and give some advice or something,†the tone of defense not lost on either but the tone of humor was much more present to both him and her. “Okay I’ll try harder next time.†she lightly laughed and pulled out her phone to check the time. 12:42 am. She stood up from the swing and sighed, “okay, take me home Carradine†she breathed and he stood up following suit, the keys to his car already in his hand. “Whatever you need Costello.†Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - crows - 03-09-2018 I LOVED IT I LOVED IT I!!!! YEAH I LOVED IT Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - Legends - 03-11-2018 [align=center][div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"]you can ask how this came to be if you want to but i though of this today based off a thing my friend said and i'm just really happy i'm writing again Claudelle "Claudie" La Prince sat quietly and politely on the corner of the French cafe, a copy of Hemmingway's The Sun Also Rises resing between the fingers of her left hand, while the right mindlessly kept hold of a half-smoked cigarette. The breeze blew quickly through the somewhat empty street, which was strange for a Saturday. Most people from her rich neighborhood had already left Paris, as rumors about Germany's military expansion were alarming enough to send the wealthy scampering off to England or other further nations like Norway or the United States. The nineteen-year-old was determined to stay as long as possible to finish her university tenure, as studying literature was her one true passion in life and she insisted on staying until the professor forced her to leave. Her mary-jane leather shoes tapped aimlessly against the metal table, her eyes barely paying attention to the oncoming figure approaching her. Claudie's dark brown bobbed hair was covered on top with a black beret, keeping her appearance almost stereotypically French, but she could've cared less, there was hardly anyone lurking around anyway. The figure stopped at her table and at first she assumed it was the waiter so she, without looking up, said instinctively "merci monsieur, mais je n'ai besoin de rien" (thank you sir but I do not need anything) but when no reply was given nor did the figure move she was forced to look up. He was young, likely twenty, tall, and clean shaven with inquisitive grey eyes and a soft yet trimmed mop of somewhat curly brown hair. "est-ce que je peux vous aider?" (can I help you?) she asked instinctively, unknowing to why he had decided to make his way over to her table. She had not seen him earlier when she had sat down but then again, her face had been hidden by a book for the past hour so it was unlikely she would've noticed him before anyway. "Oh um, bonjour" he managed to say, suddenly trying to finish the rest of his sentence but taking a pause to rack his brain for his next words, "Je vois le livre. J'aime Hemingway." (an attempt at "I noticed your book. I love Hemingway.") he managed to say. The french was terribly done but somewhat grammatically correct, his hard American accent mixing with the soft eloquent language made it obvious. Claudie held back a slight smile at the American, his French was practically broken but she could tell he was trying. "Vraiment? La façon dont il écrit sur l'amour et la perte est si simpliste et même sans beaucoup de mots,," (Really? The way he writes about love and loss is so simplistic and even without a lot of words,) she said almost excitedly, closing her book but leaving her thumb between the pages to mark her spot, "il parvient toujours àtout dire et plus." (he always manages to say everything and more.) she finished, taking a pull of her cigarette before smothering it in the ashtray. Claudie turned her head and blew out the smoke, turning back to the American who she was sure was trying to mentally translate what she had said. "I am reading it for school," she said in very French-accented English. A look of relief swept across the guy's face. "I am- I was an exchange student from the United States. My name is Vincent, Vincent O'Brien," he said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his high waisted trousers. "I'm studying here in Paris and, um, like I said I love Hemingway." he finished, his grey eyes glancing down at the cover of her book before looking into hers. "Can I buy you a macchiato or a cappuccino?" he asked her, lightly rocking back on his lace-up oxfords. He was cute and there were little things Claudie kept noticing the more she looked at him. He had bags under his eyes and the sleeves of his oxford shirt were sloppily rolled up like he had been working on something very late at night for a very long time (he was studying to be a journalist or trying to anyway. getting his degree in English and subconsciously attempting to avoid writing a draft in the process). Claudie smiled and closed her book completely, folding the corner of the page she had been holding. "Vincent?" she repeated, letting the name move through her voice. She didn't know it but Vincent loved the way it sounded in Claudie's french. "I'm Claudie and yes, I would love a macchiato," she replied, moving some out of place hair behind her right ear. Vincent's face lit up with a smile as he disappeared back into the cafe to get the coffee order. He reappeared within a couple minutes carrying two white ceramic plates with matching mugs resting soundly on top. He returned to the table and sat down, a little hesitant as he was not only balancing two hot drinks but was also not explicitly invited to sit with her however it was implied so he followed through. Claudie picked up her mug of coffee and took a refined sip before looking back at Vincent sitting opposite her, "so monsieur, what do you like about Hemingway?" she asked, leaning slightly against the table, reducing the space between them. Claudie found herself unexpectedly happy to finally not be sitting by herself, and she was not alone in that notion either. Re: and they go, i hate to say i told you so - writing - crows - 03-11-2018 thanks! i love it |