There Will Be No Scripts on the Night

About a week ago I received some exciting news in that I had been cast to play Roger in a local production of RENT in Syracuse. I'm more than ecstatic over this as since high school it has been my dream to portray Roger in the show, and assuming those Philadelphian mobsters don't catch up to me between now and then that dream will be coming true this summer. I mean, yeah, I have higher aspirations than community theatre, but for artistic reasons this is a great start for me. It's made me reflect on my long history in theatre and acting, the bad times and the worse, and boy, have I learned a lot that I wish everyone could know right out the gate. Things such as:

1. Your castmates will fuck up

And you will never be prepared for it, so you just gotta shit your pants and dive in and swim. My most memorable incident like this occurred in my middle school musical The Music Man. I was playing Tommy Djilas, and the scene called for me to run out onto stage, get caught and held back while the Mayor chews me out, then get inadvertently introduced to the Mayor's daughter to go on a date, resulting in a wacky misunderstanding that gets young Tommy into trouble down the road. Here's what happened instead. I run out onto stage from the wing, I'm stopped by other cast members. The kid playing the Mayor approaches me for the one-sided screaming match. "Tommy Djilas!" he begins, "...What are you doing?" This was not his line. He stopped speaking altogether. There was silence. Nobody was stepping up to save the scene. I did the only thing I could think to do. I replied, "Jeely Kly, I don't know!" And that was the extent of my improv skills. Following my brief but brilliant added-on-the-fly line the scene continued with 10 second stretches of silence interrupted by a kid saying something, ANYTHING, just to stop the awkward. Finally the kid playing Harold Hill managed to fumble his way to one of his actual lines and allow me to run off to the other side of the stage where he would then call me back to him. I hear no line signaling I should return so I just keep going off into the wings. Meanwhile the Mayor's daughter had walked onstage, stood around awkwardly, and then left. Those on stage dispersed, and despite nothing being set up, or even actually happening in the scene, the kid playing a cop still finished the scene with his line, "Well Mr. Hill, you did make one mistake. That was the mayor's daughter." Audience silence. Can't blame them, I'd be wondering what the fuck just happened too.

2. You will fuck up

And you won't be prepared for this either. If there's one part in your dialogue you know you always forget and so focus on getting that right, chances are you'll forget some other line that you remembered every time. The first time I had ever forgotten a line it blew my mind. I had been flawless up until that point, but it was during junior year of high school in the drama production of Rest Assured, a shitty little "comedy" that rips off It's a Wonderful Life, only the protagonist discovers that everyone is actually a lot better off without him. I couldn't care any less about this show than I already did, and maybe that's why the line just fell out of my head. I was supposed to tell someone that the protagonist is "walking in his sleep." Instead, I keep silent, waiting for whatever idiot was late on his or her line. The protagonist's wife, after a brief pause, says to me, "What's he doing, George? Is he walking in his sleep or something?" Alerted to my mistake, I use my acting genius to cover myself as if there was no mistake at all and reply, "He's...walking in his...sleep." See? Like nothing ever happened.
Another time, in the same goddamn play I couldn't give a shit about, I was supposed to enter a scene with a girl as soon as I heard a cue line. The only thing was, all of this guy's lines sounded the same and I entered on the wrong one. I walk on with the girl but before I can speak I see another cast member step forth to say her monologue, you know, 'cause she actually knows what she's doing. I mutter a curse under my breath, turn to the panicked face of the girl I dragged on with me, and then start miming that we're talking...for 10 goddamned minutes until my line actually comes up.

3. Your family is only there to watch you

Whenever I'm in a show, that show and the people I'm acting with are the best things in the world to me. If I'm really into the show, everything we do feels like Broadway. My co-stars are Daniel Day-Lewis and Robert Downey, Jr. The choreography is spot-on and beautiful. The orchestra is worthy of playing with John Williams. Needless to say, unless you're actually in a professional show, this is almost always not the case, but I love it regardless. Whenever I'm in a show, I'm excited for my family and friends to come see the show. Not just to see me, but because I want them to see how great the show as a whole is, and how amazing and talented everyone else in the cast is, or see how hot my female co-star is. It's making the show as whole entertaining to watch that helps me perform as well as I do. Then after curtain call and when the cast goes out to meet the audience, I make a beeline for my family. I get loads of "You were so great" and Congratulations hun" before I ask them back, "Did you like so-and-so?" or "Wasn't that dance that I wasn't in awesome?" I get nods and "Uh-huhs" as a response before they delve into more compliments meant just for me. My favorite has been "I wish you hadn't died so early," which I've actually heard more than once. At this point I just don't need a shower of compliments for myself, I'm confident enough in my abilities that I no longer need constant reassurance. What I want is for them to enjoy a show I was a part of aside form the fact that I'm in it. The ultimate test of this was when I directed my college production of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, where I wasn't in it at all. I know my family enjoyed it, I just didn't hear it vocalized enough as if I had been in it.

4. Funny shit will happen

It is inevitable. Whether it is a result of you or others messing up or just a wacky happenstance, you will come away from every show with a hysterical memory that you will tell everybody you know twice. In Romeo & Juliet I was legitimately stabbed by Romeo, on 3 different occasions. On a show night for R&J a tech member was still onstage when the lights came up. He stood perfectly still in his jeans and t-shirt while men dressed in tights and petticoats walked around him speaking in Shakespearean dialect before making his escape to the wings. During a practice sword fight for I Hate Hamlet I accidentally stabbed my sword straight through the wall. On opening night of Deathtrap the lights came up on me typing but there was no paper in my typewriter, but I committed to typing on nothing throughout the entire scene like a pro. Yeah, people noticed. In Grease the car got caught on a curtain and nearly tore down the backdrop, leading to us jumping in with gems like "Nice driving, Kenickie!" and "Dude, you hit Marty's house!" Also in that show the girl playing Sandy, when asked how she was liking her new school, answered with a line meant to be used when asked about coleslaw and said, "It smells kinda funny." And during a rehearsal a guy's pants split in the back at the end of a huge dance number. Actually, there is an endless supply of hilarious instances from that show, especially that time a girl got dehydrated and was throwing up in the bathroom between all of her scenes. Hmm, actually that wasn't funny at all. She had to go to the hospital after.

5. You will kiss someone in a show

Whether you're the romantic lead type or not (I'm certainly not) there will come a play or musical where you will lock lips with someone. I stress the word "someone." Your makeout partner will not always be your ideal choice. You may get cast as the love interest to someone who you would much rather kick in the eye, or someone who has a crush on you who you'd rather didn't. In rare cases, you'll have to kiss someone of the same sex. I have. It was weird. But ever once in a while you'll get cast as a co-kisser to someone you've only dreamt of getting to first base with. I have. It was awesome.

6. You will work with people you hate

This is unavoidable, unfortunately. Even in the most perfect casts there will that one or two that you just hate being closer than a stick's length to. Even worse, this can affect your performance. Oh yes. For an example I was in a show once where my character was supposed to hate two other characters. One of the actors I got along with really well, but the other I legitimately despised. Funnily enough, my fake-hate towards the one was more believable while I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the other. You would think actual disdain would translate well through acting but it doesn't. You can't work well with someone you don't like, and it's no different when it comes to acting. I was once cast as a romantic lead opposite a girl I absolutely could not stand and...well, you can imagine our onstage chemistry translated very well. I don't have any real advice for this dilemma, as I've yet to overcome it myself. And so I wish us both luck with that.

And so I hope most of this was helpful, or at least entertaining. As I'm only just getting into serious acting I'm sure I will be learning more and more lessons along the way. So good luck to you all as well, my fellow actors! As I once said in a play, "You already learned everything that is important. You've tasted glory -- Now, reach skyward!"

Until sometime,

Tyler

P.S. If you ever wanted to hear Tywin Lannister narrate Fifty Shades of Grey, it is indeed on Youtube.

Question I Honestly Need an Answer to:

What song(s) should I audition for The Voice with?

Do I Remind You of Someone You Never Met?

This blog post is for any fellow writers out there.

Do you ever think about the characters you've created for your stories, I mean really think about them, their lives, their personalities, the things you put them through for the sake of your plot, and do you ever feel like crying?

Maybe I take this too seriously, but I'll begin with an example of a story I wrote from the age of 16 and finished when I was 19, and am currently going through and revising so that it no longer reads like the mind-vomit of a fantasy-loving high schooler. The story as it stands is about 300+ pages in length, and though there are really only 4 characters I consider "principle," there are a dozen or more supporting and minor characters whose actions and fates all assist in the story's ultimate outcome. And despite there being so many of them, and aside from the fact that so, so many of them die before the end, I find myself loving them all. And I want you to love them too.

                                  Like this, only with less laughing and more crossbows.

Of course I never intended to have so many characters in the story, in fact the original idea was for a short story 'cause I was 16 and didn't know how to write a long book. It was originally going to end with a terrible misunderstanding that resulted in an unnecessary death and the remaining main characters going their separate ways on terrible terms. I was more curious how the story would turn out if the plot took a different turn, and then 300 pages later I found out, and made some new "friends" along the way.

There was a firstish draft I wrote when I was 16, but then I got a computer virus because that was around the time I discovered Limewire. So we rebooted the computer and I lost 80 pages of my book. So I take a break and write a different story, and when I get sick of that one I decide to revisit the fantasy story I thought was long gone. Turns out it being deleted was the best thing for it 'cause I was a slightly better writer this time around. It's interesting talking to my friends who have read it and telling them what parts of the story weren't in the original draft, particularly certain characters. It's like when I lent my friend the director's cut of Kingdom of Heaven and after he watched it told him what parts weren't in the theatrical cut. He had a hard time believing that the movie made any sense without the cut scenes. And honestly, the movie really didn't make much sense without those scenes, but that's besides the point. You see when I started the story the first time I was writing as I went, making up a main character on the spot and writing the first chapter, not knowing where it was going. As I went along I found an endpoint I could work towards, then it got deleted. In round 2, I knew exactly where I was trying to get to, and so I was able to have more freedom on the path there. I added some characters, created new plot points, and discovered all of those themes and metaphors that teachers tell you the authors intended to have. Here's a hint, those are almost always accidents. The ones that aren't are shitty books.

                                                                     Ahem.

But where was I? What am I trying to say? Oh right! So obviously I don't write a 300 page book in one sitting. I write a paragraph or a chapter here and there, then leave to do other stuff or go to bed. It was never while I was writing that I truly discovered a character. When I'm typing I just spell a name and describe what they look like, write some dialogue to move the plot along, leave it at that. It's when I'm in bed when I really think about some of them. I mean as people. What their personality is, why they do the things they do, what happened to them prior to the story. And this isn't pretentious writerly bullshit they feed you in school, I really think about this stuff. But it's not because I want the story to work, or because I want to create diverse, interesting characters, the characters literally are people to me. I know what makes them tick, I know what their parents were like, and I don't even put most of that shit into the story. For the more likeable characters, it gets to the point where I wish I could just pull them off of the page and hang out with them.

                                            Believe me, I wish it were more like this.

It's bad, man. I don't want to always be thinking about people who don't exist but they're there all the time. Because of this it can sometimes be really difficult when the time comes for said characters to die. Oh boy, that can sometimes be a tough job. There was this one character, when I thought him up he was just supposed to be minor, just be around, but I needed the main character to have a best friend in that section of the story and so I promoted him. Eventually I realized I wanted to have an unrequited love story going on and so I again promoted this character to the hopeless romantic in addition to the main character's best friend. In the back of my mind, however, his fate was always to be killed near the end of the story. When I decided he should die, he was a nobody. A background character. Even after his subsequent character promotions his fate hadn't changed, he still had to die before the story's final chapters, because frankly  I hadn't thought up anything he could do during those parts. Yes, he partly died as a result of my laziness. I've already had that talk with myself. So anyways, when the time came to type out his death scene, I was hesitant. "Maybe he doesn't have to die. I have the power to stop this," I told myself. But I held strong and wrote out his demise, and then I felt horrible. I had to stop and walk around for a bit. I know that sounds like such a J.K. Rowling thing to do, but it felt really weird to off a character that I'd been thinking about for so long. Maybe it was also the fact that he wasn't the only one who died in that scene.

                                                 "Hmm...still not enough death!"

Yeah, I killed off two kinda important characters in one go. Yes, I felt bad. And I wouldn't if, again, I didn't think about them so damn much. But dammit, they're so cool! There this other character, a girl, who was just kind of in the background here and there throughout the story. She never really did anything of note until this massive attack thing happens and this is when whoever's reading the story will start to get to know her. Through her struggles and acts of bravery the reader will start to think, "This chick, she's kinda cool." Then I pull the rug out from under you and kill her like I'm all, "Sucks to suck!" And admittedly, that was my intent all along, to make you just start to like this girl who seemed like a nobody and then have her die so you feel sad. That didn't make it any easier to write, though, I liked her too. Especially now during the rewrites where I'm thinking up a whole new backstory for her. I might even have a bit of a fictional character crush on her, which makes me feel slightly guilty about having her leg get blown off.

It's more than just those two, though. All of the characters I've invented (or "discovered" if I wanna sound douchy) I feel like I know through and through, and if I don't now I will eventually. Sadly, I have all of their fates mapped out and most of them die horribly. It's not 'cause I hate them, I just decided to kill them before I really grew to like them, and then I was stuck with a death scene I'd be forced to write, all the time trying to apologize to someone who doesn't exist, and who therefore is not actually dying.

                                                                     Whoa.

But none of that matters, 'cause everybody is sad when their favorite character dies in a book or movie. I just happen to feel like that about EVERYBODY. It's like, imagine if a part of you died every time a random soldier died in the Lord of the Rings movies. Welcome to my world. What's worse is when I find a song that I specifically identify with a character or circumstance in my story. I listen to the song "My Junk" from Spring Awakening, a song about the young characters in that show growing up and thinking about each other in romantic (ish) ways, and when I listen to it now I think, "Oh god, it's just like in my story, and just like in my story most of them are dead by the end!" Obviously I've added it to my "writing" playlist. I also recently heard the Scala and Kolacny Brothers cover of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters," and oh my god does that song make me think about the aftermath of the attack scene I mentioned before, especially hearing it from a choir. Hearing the right music puts a whole new spin on what I'm writing and who these characters are.

                                             Embedded so you too can feel my pain.

But anyways, I hope I'm not the only writer who goes through this, because if I am I'm either a freak or the best writer around, and I'm not particularly comfortable being either of those. Regardless, I hope that if I ever get this thing published you will all pick up a copy and forget all the spoilers I revealed throughout this. Please support a hungry writer, because my acting career isn't exactly keeping the power on. And if you also like getting attached to characters only to see them get horribly murdered, I highly recommend watching Game of Thrones.


With regrets,
Tyler


P.S. Who has two thumbs and just got cast as Roger in RENT? THIS GUY!!!

Dream Roles:

Completed:

Tybalt - Romeo & Juliet
Bernardo - West Side Story
and soon Roger in RENT

Still on the horizon are:

St. Jimmy - American Idiot
Moritz - Spring Awakening
Iago - Othello

One day the list shall be complete. One day...

The Little Insult That Could

Who here knows what an A-wing is? I surely can't be Facebook friends with anyone who hasn't seen Star Wars but I'll elaborate anyways. This is an A-wing:

That's right, it's that ship that nobody likes to use in Star Wars: Rogue Squadron 'cause its shields suck and its weapons are weak. Its one saving grace is that it's faster than the other ships, but who needs speed in a game where the goal is to blow space shit up? Essentially, if the A-wings were in a gym class, they'd get picked last. They're small and weak and can't do much damage. What chance do these things have against the Imperial armada, especially when they have the Super Star Destroyer, dubbed the Executor?

                            For a scale comparison, this ship's bigger than everything ever.

Oh wait, in the final movie Return of the Jedi, the Executor got taken down by one of those little fuckers. The rebels had destroyed the Executor's bridge deflector shield, pretty much painting a big fat red target on the ship's control bridge. Admiral Piett orders all power be directed to the star destroyer's firepower. Caught in the guns' crossfire is a random A-wing, who, in his final moments, steers his damaged fighter towards the Executor's shieldless control bridge and rams it head on. The bridge explodes and the Executor nosedives into the side of the Death Star and explodes.

                                                               "Too late!!!"

Holy shit, that was awesome! What a spectacular and brave final act by...that A-wing pilot. Huh? What? You don't remember his name? Everybody remembers Lando's name and he didn't do shit. Well, thanks to Wikipedia, I've learned that this random A-wing pilot's name was Arvel Crynyd, and his one line of screaming battlecry was portrayed by actor Hilton McRae, who you might recognize from nothing. Now going by traditional means, you would think they would've had the Executor taken out by a more significant hero, like Lando or Wedge. Or hell, why not an Ewok? But it was an unknown pilot keeping his shitty little A-wing afloat just long enough to help turn the tide of the battle. And you know what? I could give a shit about Luke or his sister-with-benefits. This man was my hero of the films.

It's something like that that just goes to show how little, seemingly insignificant things can make a huge difference. They can be so small, one has to really look back in order to see where the seed was first planted. Take the sitcom Friends, for example. Monica and Chandler hooking up in London and eventually marrying was awesome and seemed to come out of nowhere. Yeah, it really seemed like they were just talking in one scene and when it cut to the next, they were in bed together. How did that happen? Well, you may recall a minor event that led to Monica seeking out Joey for comfort sex but finding Chandler instead (it's a complex show). At Ross's wedding rehearsal dinner, Monica was feeling bummed out that her brother was getting married while she was still single, when suddenly a man IMDB credits as Older Guest approaches her and, after telling her how wonderful Ross is, then says, "My god, you must've been a teenager when you had him." Monica is Ross's younger sister, in case you're just that uncultured. And with that, Monica finally snaps and turns to Chandler, thus beginning their beautiful and, frankly, show-killing romance. Seriously, the show started to suck right around that point. Meanwhile, Older Guest can be credited as jumpstarting the eventual marriage of Monica and Chandler, and actor Heathcote Williams (good LORD, what a name) can forever claim to his friends that he was responsible for one of the series' biggest plotlines, to which his friends would presumably reply, "Shut the fuck up, Heathcote!"

Now, did the writers of Star Wars or Friends intend for their audience to look back at Arvel Crynyd and Older Guest and ponder the fate of their respective mediums without their minor acts of heroism? Probably not, but people like me (probably just me) have noticed and will never forget these important nobodies. Tiny acts like those can have huge effects later on, just like when that kid in high school quit the track team 'cause everyone was calling him slow. Ah, there's the moral he was getting at.

We say things to people we know everyday that mean nothing to us, but to their ears it could be lifechanging. Little insults or sarcastic remarks can slowly tear down a person's self-esteem. Not holding a door open for somebody one day could just be the final straw that was keeping that person's cynicism from leaking out, and now they hate humanity. Good job. Blowing somebody off when you were supposed to go to the movies could give that person the idea that nobody wants to be around them, if it happens enough times. Picking fun at any little thing about a person, such as their weight or their athleticism or the fact that they're wearing jorts, could lead to them giving up on socializing or quitting school or worse. Don't even get me started on the bullying crisis in America's schools and what results that produces.

                                                        But seriously, jorts = no.

During my middle school years, I was not a bully. I was too skinny. I was something worse, though. I was the bully's friend. You know, that skinny asshole who hides behind his giant bruiser buddy and flings insults at you. I was that, and I regret everything from that time. I stood by as my friends bullied the "losers" and just let it happen, all the while saying things to make it worse. I once told a kid that he should run away from home because it would be doing us and his family a favor. Christ, I said that? I don't know what that kid's doing now or where he is. He didn't actually run away from home, in case you were wondering, but I don't know what's become of him since we graduated. I'm very glad I stopped being that person once I got to high school, otherwise I could've evolved into full-on bully. And you know what they say, "No one's gonna cry on the very day you die, you're a bully." Ok, maybe only Shinedown says that.

But yeah, think about your actions and how, down the road, they could change a person's life. Maybe you tell someone in your creative writing class that you liked their story. Someday they might be a published author. Tell someone you like their jokes, they might turn into a renowned stand up comedian. Tell someone they have a good singing voice, then they may go on to embarrass themselves in an audition for The Voice. Everything goes a long ways. Just smile at somebody walking down the street and they might not kill themselves that day. And be mindful of the little things you say to bring people down, like when I rub it in my sister's face how I dominated our "A Year in the Life" Christmas card that year. Maybe she really gets jealous when it appears I did more than her that year. I'm not immune to the actions of others, either. Maybe somebody made fun of my music tastes years ago and now I'm embarrassed when people hear what I listen to. Maybe that same person also tried to tell me I couldn't act or sing even though he'd never come to any of my shows to see if I could or not. Maybe I don't draw anymore because he told me my drawings were shit. Think about it, then shut the fuck up, you moron. Who made you king of trends? Nobody likes you and you're gonna die angry, you fucking douchnozzle. Go drink detergent. Seriously. I won't care, and neither will anyone else.

                                               As you can see, I'm totally over it.

So in conclusion, remember, one small and random act can alter the course of everything. Whether it be an A-wing taking out a Star Destroyer or you calling a kid fat and him dropping out of school and joining the Navy, our current fates can always be traced back to one tiny seed planted in just the right spot, and my god did that come off sounding more sexual than I thought it would. But hey, I started out talking about Star Wars and ended with a pretty good life lesson. You see, that's writing.

Goodbybe,
Tyler

P.S. Still no word on my RENT audition. Is no news usually good news?

Best News of 2013 So Far:

New David Bowie album out in March!!!

Song of Myself (Except Not)

Have you ever had a song that you felt defined your life? If it's a song by Arcade Fire, you're a hipster douchebag. I'm kidding, of course. You're not a hipster. But hey, I've been there. I get so down sometimes that I have to turn to music written by someone else to really get in touch with how I feel. I just don't want to sort through three minutes of poetic bullshit to get there, so indie bands aren't quite my cup of coffee. I'd say "tea," but I hate tea. It's for hipsters and "singers."

But we've all hit those moments where it seems like there's nobody in our lives we can turn to, so who better to understand our pain and turmoil than famous billionaire musicians who have everything they've ever wanted?

                                "Naw man, I totally feel ya. Want some? I got tons of it."

I think there is a serious danger in connecting too well to music, though. See, I was down one summer, and so I listened continually to the Pink Floyd album The Wall. I mean, I had also just seen it in concert, so that was also a reason. But anyways, it's a concept album that tells the story of a rock star named Pink who grew up without a father figure and an overbearing mother, develops a hatred for authority after awful experiences in school, has a failed marriage, and eventually builds a metaphoric (or is it?) wall around himself so that he can separate himself from the world that had treated him so badly. I listened to this long album and found myself identifying with some of the lyrics, so much so that I started to feel like my life was being sang to me. Here's the thing: I am nothing like the character Pink, and share almost no qualities with the crazy bastard. As a whole the album is bleak and saddening, but that shouldn't make you feel like your life is too. Sure, the lyrics to "Nobody Home" have some resonance, but only in certain parts, not the entire song. Just because I can emotionally connect with it doesn't mean Roger Waters is singing about my life, and that was a trick I almost fell for.

                                                It's like a painting of my childhood.

Another famous concept album I took to listening to when I was feeling lousy was Green Day's American Idiot. Sure, there was a lot I could relate to in those songs, particularly "Wake Me Up When September Ends," but I can never say (well, never again say) that the album was "the soundtrack to my life." I don't recall moving from the suburbs to the big city and developing an alternate personality and hooking up with a girl who's name I don't even remember. I mean, not that I remember, at least. Certain lyrics here and there, however, do hit home with me. Can I say they define me? No, that's stupid. Nobody can define you but yourself, and certainly not Billie Joe Armstrong.

                                              A man who knows how to read people.

I realized that I felt sympathetic with those songs because they were telling sad and heartbreaking stories, not because my own life was a reflection of those characters. Your friend who cries every time "Hallelujah" comes on the radio will tell you he identifies with the song, but try asking him what the song's about and watch him say nothing. If you're a girl, however, he's just faking it to show he can be sensitive. It's okay to think he's a pussy, there's sensitive and then there's that.

I'm saying all of this to disprove those friends we have who will say "This is my song OMG!!!" or "This song is my LIFE!!!". Good to know their lives can be summed up in 3-4 minutes, they must be proud. It's perfectly alright to post song lyrics on Facebook that reflect what you're feeling, I do that. You know, just make sure you know what the song's actually about and that it's not about incest or anything. Also, is it just me or is it only the sad songs that people say are about their lives? Nobody's ever told me that "Call Me Maybe" was about themselves, but I get plenty of that about Adele songs. Maybe if her and Taylor Swift weren't such fucking buzzkills they'd have those relationships they always say they want, and so would their fans who "identify with them."

                                 "Let me sing to you about all my exes, then LOVE ME!"

Don't worry, I'm not bashing Adele or Taylor Swift. I have nothing but respect for Adele as a singer, and Taylor Swift...is also a musician. It will be a sad day when they finally find the love they always wanted, 'cause what the hell would they sing about then? We as a people need songs like those ones in order to let us know we're not alone in how we feel. Yes, coming back to my main point, it is good to identify with a song, but it is not okay to say it defines you. You listen to a Pink Floyd or a Green Day or an Adele song and you move on. What you do not do is play it on loop while you try and cut your wrists with a nail filer. Song lyrics do not tell us what we're feeling, we do that ourselves when we hear them. Only we can tell ourselves what's really going on. If we let another person's words influence us on our feelings and beliefs, then it may as well be one of Hitler's speeches.

                                           "California gurls are UNFORGETTABLE!"

The only exception to this is, of course, "Firework" by Katy Perry. That song is magic. And with that said, beware of those songs you say are about you. You just might sound like an asshole.

Keep on rockin' in Mid-World,
Tyler

P.S. Sorry for all the cat pics on Instagram.

New Year's Resolution:

Convince friends to all wear leather jackets.