I'm gonna...

Tue, 09 Mar 2010 03:11:50 GMT

eat me some food.
drink me some beer.
and write me some slash.

Dreamin'...I was only dreamin'...

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 00:32:43 GMT

The terrible things I would do just to hear Pres. Obama say, "Ladies and gentlemen," *dramatic pause*, "Tre Cool."

Like him or not, his speaking voice is amazing and you can't tell me that wouldn't sound BALLER!

My life

Wed, 05 Aug 2009 21:06:32 GMT

Eighteen Years Old.

Sitting on my bed at home.

Eating chocolate.

Drinking Coca Cola.

Reading Green Day Fan Fiction.

Healthy vs. Unhealthy?

I haven't written in a long fucking time.

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 03:02:12 GMT

Tits.

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 21:51:26 GMT

Title: Lost in Hollywood
Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: Matt/Brian
Summary: "You should have never trusted Hollywood."
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The title belongs to System of A Down.

I rounded the corner of the busy sidewalk I was trying to get out of. I was nudged in every direction, being sneered and scoffed at as I made my way out. I tightly held the small hand in my own, pulling her to my side. The people came in less bunches as we neared our home, she babbled on and on about her day at school. I smiled, shielding my eyes from the sun's rays as we continued our trek home.

"Daddy, what's a slut?" My daughter suddenly asked. I looked down at the six year old incredulously; hearing that word come out of an innocent child's mouth baffled me beyond reason. I struggled for an answer.

"It's a bad girl. Don't use that word, though. It's not a nice word." I said. She nodded, looking down, mumbling an apology. I held her hand tightly, telling her that it was normal to be curious.

The simple word brought me back years before. I don't know what the Brian then would have thought about the Brian now. I was no longer Synyster Gates; I hadn't been for a long time.

I began thinking about all the sluts that I'd known; the 'bad girls'. All the wild parties, drinking games, and fun. All the trouble that we got in. The endless gigs. The lifestyle was so foreign to me now. I wasn't how I used to be; I was glad.

My mind wandered to the question that had been circling my brain for years. 'Where did it all go wrong?'

I know when it went wrong, just not how. The fights became more violent and frequent. Our once promising band became a business and we became the owners; each fighting for sole leadership. I was guilty of this madness too, this hunger; Hollywood is its famous name.

Avenged Sevenfold became a brand name, a market source that sold five guys addicted to booze, sex, and drugs; no music. Our faces were plastered over magazine covers, liquor ads, even cigarette ads, at one point. We were drowned in money and fame. We all forgot what our real names were and we permanantly became our alter egos; M. Shadows, Synyster Gates, The Reverend (Tholomew Plague), Zacky Vengeance, and Johnny Christ. The five teenage boys that had started the band were gone; shot and killed by producers in two thousand dollar suits.

Not only did we forget who we were, we forgot who anyone else was. I forgot who Matt was as Johnny forgot who Jimmy was; Zacky couldn't even remember that Daron, at one point, had even exsisted. We didn't give a shit about anyone but ourselves.

There were times, though, when we'd all sit together in silence and think about what was happening to us. Matt would hold my hand and I'd lean against his chest, missing the comfort I felt when I was with Matt; not M. Shadows. Johnny would wrap his arms around Jimmy and whisper words of love and hope into his ear. Zacky would call Daron just to hear his voice. Those times, few and far between, were what kept us together.

My daughter squeezed my hand, bringing me back to reality. I looked down at her small figure and smiled, thinking about the day that I had adopted her. It was just me and her. I looked around at the polished buildings, the tall palm trees, and clean streets. I shook my head in disgust, wondering while I still was here in the town that destroyed so many lives and so many of my friends.

I often thought about them, about my bandmates. After the band broke up there was little, which turned to no, contact, just heresay from distant friends or relatives. Zack moved to New York to work with his older brothers at an insurance company. I ran into him a while back and we spoke casually for a few minutes before seperating. When Johnny walked away from the band that was the last any of us had ever seen of him; no one knew what happened to him. He was heavily addicted to heroin when we'd all last seen him. Jimmy was a wanderer like he'd always been. Puking in streets and getting loaded with whomever he wished. I often saw him on the cover of People Magazine, getting dragged into a scandal with some young Hollywood starlet. Matt ended up becoming a full-time producer with Warner Bros., firing all the people who'd worked with Avenged in the early years.

I turned the last corner, onto the street of our home. I chatted affably with the small girl, raising my eyes every so often. I looked up and saw a familiar man. He was walking quickly, an expensive black suit hugging his large body. The aviators were what caught my eye, though. He turned towards me and I could see the look of recognition on his face despite the sunglasses that sheilded his emotions.

My gaze lingered on him as memories poured through me, re-running on fast forward through my brain. I shifted under his hard gaze, looking away. We swiftly passed eachother, neither of us acknowledging the other.

"Who was that, Daddy?" a small voice asked.

I turned, looking at the retreating back of the man I'd known and loved for years.

"It was nobody."

If they had it their way I'd burn in hell.

I'm gonna...

Dreamin'...I was only dreamin'...

My life

I haven't written in a long fucking time.