"don't pretend you've never been there."

~Mood: like using an attractive icon

  the problem with someone knowing how to make your heart beat is they know exactly how to make it stop, too.

never leave my side, cause you might just find yourself better off if you do.
if you do i won't know what to say... it's "i told you so." vs "well, we're all going to hell anyway. think of this as an early start."

neither seems to be right. neither do i.

these days are spent with crossed fingers and closed hearts. telephone li(n)es and stories too unbelievable to be made up. living lives that are just books with ripped out pages we can forget we ever wrote. i lay on my back in my bunk reading hemingway, attention half focused on the book, half waiting for dirty to grab it from me and half not at all waiting for my phone to ring with calls from faces i'll forget better than i remember soon. well i am- but i don't expect it. wai(s)t away my life. just good for a story to tell your friends or to shove away on the shelf. it makes me wish my life was fiction. i'm the character any sane author would abort with the eraser. the backspace key. torn paper flesh.

these days the shows aren't small like we miss but they've got the heart. sold out arenas and the all american heartthrobs to share the stage. jokes afterwards and tshirts with funny sayings from the fans that make me smile. we're making it out of this okay. it makes me realize worse things could have happened. let's just hope they don't even though it seems like it goes, "whatever doesn't kill you will just keep trying."

these days moods are altered thanks to overcast skys that coat the atmosphere as the tourbus passes down the road. it's quick when we're not in town, the miles go by and you only pay attention if you're superbored or waiting for that phonecall/im that never comes. in town it stops every few blocks and if a graveyard is near i just hope i can hold my breath. superstitions. it seems like everytime we pass a graveyard there's a red light. i spend most of my life biting my tongue but right now i bite my lips. i hold my breath and just at the second when i think i can't anymore the bus starts moving with a jerk as the driver hits the gas and i can breathe again. second chances. he tries to move his hand over to mine a second too late but it doesn't reach me anymore. i'm whatever i tell you not to be doing everything i tell you not to. i'm a lie more than i am alive.

um and i don't think anyone has mentioned this yet but as of tuesday you can pick up the rerelease of from under the cork tree to get two unreleased tracks and three remixes. blah.

oh yeah- called home and spoke to the parents. mama wentz was telling me what came in the mail and i had to laugh. okay, i was just thinking about this- someone tell me the point of the cardboard or plastic credit cards that come with credit card applications. the ones that say 'NOT VALID' and have like 'john doe from bum fuck street dumbtown usa 99999' on them. i want to try to use one of those one time at the grocery store and see what they do. see if i don't get thrown out or pretty much treated like a retard. especially if i insist on it being valid and having a $200 credit limit on it. mama thought i was crazy but she laughed anyway cause she said she could totally see me doing that. this makes me miss home already.

i pretty much give my heart away but it isn't ever worth recieving. returned to sender: refused. damaged. flat out broke. lately it seems like the l word is always on the tip of my tongue, but everytime i go to say it it slips down my throat and i choke.

i bet that would make you smile if you knew me well enough.

xo

ps- excerpt from a review of the video. thats awsome. everybody in this music video is sooooo much hottier. pete is also more manly. more manly than what?