Fork and Knife
It's Fun To Lose And To Pretend
“Ryyyyan” It was a soft and quite cooing voice that woke me from the land of nod. I smiled and rolled over expecting to meet the eyes that belonged to the person I was dreaming about I opened my eyes and was met by plain brown eyes. I squealed like a girl and jumped back a bit “Brendon what the fuck?? Do you have to be so close!” I screamed in shock at the boy in front of me. I didn’t really want to see anyone at this certain time in the morning, straight after I had just a boy dream about …‘Hannah’ I don’t know what to call her anymore. But after what I had been dreaming, and the problem down under the bed sheets, I’d rather no one saw me right now. But asswipre Brendon, being ‘asswipe Brendon’ new exactly what was wrong and just had to open his big fat mouth. Just to get to me. He disappeared out of my bunk in a millisecond with a smirk on his face. I buried my face into my pillow expecting the worse. “Guys, make sure to leave Ryan alone, you know how pissy he gets after his wet dreams!” Oh fuck Brendon you’re so mature.
About 20 minutes later I decided to get up, and go shower. It wasn’t until I had taken off all my clothes and stepped into the shower when I could smell Brendon’s tangy fruit herbal essence shampoo, that that was what Hannah smelt of. She smelt of Tangy tropical fruit, the kind that you very rarely eat because it’s so hard to get your hands on, but when you do, you savour each bite because its just heaven in your mouth. She smelt of tropical fruit and the weather just before it’s about to rain. Definitely not the most poetic way to describe someone’s personal scent. Usually it’s more like ‘she smelled of cherries and rain’ or ‘I could still smell her mango shampoo, or vanilla deodorant’ but Hannah wasn’t one of them. She was the fragile type, that you found broken, dumped by the side of the road, in the rain, and you take her home and her mend her back to her usual self. But throughout the time you would spend with her, you give her your heart. Vulnerable enough, to let her break you.
I don’t know where I was pulling all of this from, or why I was over analysing someone who I had just met about 5 hours ago, that I would most likely never see again unfortunately. After washing my hair 3 times, conditioning 4 times, and waiting an extra 5 minutes for my hair straightener to heat up I stood there, clad only in the small bus bathroom towel around my waist looking at my reflection. Just, looking at myself. Trying to see into myself, who was I?
Going from the ‘pimp daddy’ in middle school, reaching high school and being the school ‘emo, fag’, dad in and out of hospital, mom leaving, having my band signed, meeting all the guys at the fuelled by ramen/Decay Dance family, dad slowly, but surely recovering, being seen as a sex god having young girls through themselves at me and confess there undying life to me, my dad passing away. ‘Changing people’s lives with my music and lyrics’, winning awards, partying every night, in a new city every week, not being able to leave my home without being spotted. Was it just me, or was the whole damn universe moving to fast? I’m just George Ryan Ross the third, who hates his first name, loves blueberry pancakes and choses Pepsi over coke. What’s there to ‘love’ about me? I just didn’t get it.
I was getting a little in over my head, and my straightener was about to burn down the bathroom if I didn’t use it now. About 20 minutes later, and feeling more pansy than I ever have, I have just spent at least an hour in a bathroom. I Made my way out, grabbed my jacket and went to clear my head. I decided just as I was out the door, that I needed some tunes to really get me into my thinking mood. I grabbed Brendon’s I-pod, he wouldn’t mind, seeing as I just never got around to getting one for myself. I flicked through his songs, until I found something I could actually listen to.
If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand. I hope you find out what you want. I already know what I am.
The calming words of Brand New soothed me, but that was just the problem, I didn’t know who I was. Fame was coming all too quickly, people who thought they knew absolutely about me, really knew nothing about me. Every night when the underage boys and girls chant back my lyrics to me, do they really know what there saying? Do they have any idea, those are my feelings, my emotions that they are singing. It’s as though I had just told each and everyone one of them a secret, in utter confidence, and then they just scream it out to everyone.
I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive. I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget.
The song finished and my mind went blank, it was incredible how that song really got me into thinking. The next song was a little more different, it started out familiar it had a really catchy guitar start, something I wish I had written. Almost. I was really starting to enjoy this song when it slowed down and went into more of a mellow tune, like almost ‘nerd techno’ if that makes any sense? Where did I hear this song…
‘CAN I SCREAM?’
‘YEAH!’
bingo.
But this time I liked this song, and I stayed around to here more.
We lack the motion to move to the new beat
We lack the motion to move to the new beat
It's here for us to admire if we can afford the beauty of it
Can afford the luxury of turning our heads
Adjust that thousand dollars smile and behold the creation of man
Great words won't cover ugly actions – GOOD FRAMES WON’T SAVE BAD PAINTINGS
I liked this song. I really liked this song.
About 20 minutes later I decided to get up, and go shower. It wasn’t until I had taken off all my clothes and stepped into the shower when I could smell Brendon’s tangy fruit herbal essence shampoo, that that was what Hannah smelt of. She smelt of Tangy tropical fruit, the kind that you very rarely eat because it’s so hard to get your hands on, but when you do, you savour each bite because its just heaven in your mouth. She smelt of tropical fruit and the weather just before it’s about to rain. Definitely not the most poetic way to describe someone’s personal scent. Usually it’s more like ‘she smelled of cherries and rain’ or ‘I could still smell her mango shampoo, or vanilla deodorant’ but Hannah wasn’t one of them. She was the fragile type, that you found broken, dumped by the side of the road, in the rain, and you take her home and her mend her back to her usual self. But throughout the time you would spend with her, you give her your heart. Vulnerable enough, to let her break you.
I don’t know where I was pulling all of this from, or why I was over analysing someone who I had just met about 5 hours ago, that I would most likely never see again unfortunately. After washing my hair 3 times, conditioning 4 times, and waiting an extra 5 minutes for my hair straightener to heat up I stood there, clad only in the small bus bathroom towel around my waist looking at my reflection. Just, looking at myself. Trying to see into myself, who was I?
Going from the ‘pimp daddy’ in middle school, reaching high school and being the school ‘emo, fag’, dad in and out of hospital, mom leaving, having my band signed, meeting all the guys at the fuelled by ramen/Decay Dance family, dad slowly, but surely recovering, being seen as a sex god having young girls through themselves at me and confess there undying life to me, my dad passing away. ‘Changing people’s lives with my music and lyrics’, winning awards, partying every night, in a new city every week, not being able to leave my home without being spotted. Was it just me, or was the whole damn universe moving to fast? I’m just George Ryan Ross the third, who hates his first name, loves blueberry pancakes and choses Pepsi over coke. What’s there to ‘love’ about me? I just didn’t get it.
I was getting a little in over my head, and my straightener was about to burn down the bathroom if I didn’t use it now. About 20 minutes later, and feeling more pansy than I ever have, I have just spent at least an hour in a bathroom. I Made my way out, grabbed my jacket and went to clear my head. I decided just as I was out the door, that I needed some tunes to really get me into my thinking mood. I grabbed Brendon’s I-pod, he wouldn’t mind, seeing as I just never got around to getting one for myself. I flicked through his songs, until I found something I could actually listen to.
If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand. I hope you find out what you want. I already know what I am.
The calming words of Brand New soothed me, but that was just the problem, I didn’t know who I was. Fame was coming all too quickly, people who thought they knew absolutely about me, really knew nothing about me. Every night when the underage boys and girls chant back my lyrics to me, do they really know what there saying? Do they have any idea, those are my feelings, my emotions that they are singing. It’s as though I had just told each and everyone one of them a secret, in utter confidence, and then they just scream it out to everyone.
I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive. I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget.
The song finished and my mind went blank, it was incredible how that song really got me into thinking. The next song was a little more different, it started out familiar it had a really catchy guitar start, something I wish I had written. Almost. I was really starting to enjoy this song when it slowed down and went into more of a mellow tune, like almost ‘nerd techno’ if that makes any sense? Where did I hear this song…
‘CAN I SCREAM?’
‘YEAH!’
bingo.
But this time I liked this song, and I stayed around to here more.
We lack the motion to move to the new beat
We lack the motion to move to the new beat
It's here for us to admire if we can afford the beauty of it
Can afford the luxury of turning our heads
Adjust that thousand dollars smile and behold the creation of man
Great words won't cover ugly actions – GOOD FRAMES WON’T SAVE BAD PAINTINGS
I liked this song. I really liked this song.