Jude Knox

::I wanted to post this in the Lyrics forum but I'm too chicken sh-- and have not enough self-esteem to think that people will accept it....so yeah. On the brightside, it's not as dark or riled with angry emo tidings like always. It's just a ditty I came up with whilst staring at the computer with my glasses on...and that tends to give me headaches. Anywayz, enough jibbing...::

The Forecast For Next Week.

You know I should wear my glasses a little bit more often than I used to.
And that's just crazy enough that it might make sense.
Work ends in the slightest of disasters.
And I'm not sure if I'm supposed to let it get to me.

But I've done it before.
Maybe two times or more.
Did you wanna say something? Or get in my way?
Well, then. You sure do have a nice day
Ahead of you.

When the phone calls come in I'm already sleeping on the keyboard
Driving recklessly while the wheel's asleep.
The holidays are over in the strangest of blurs.
And why should I remember every person who calls me.

But I've done it before.
Maybe two times or more.
Did you wanna say something? Or get in my way?
Well, then. You sure do have a nice day
Ahead of you.

I pretended to work
And it hung out on the line
Until the manager takes a step inside
And maybe we'll do lunch
And maybe it'll rain
Or perhaps I'll pretend
To do it all over again....

But I've done it before
Maybe two times or more.
Did you wanna say something? Or get in my way?
Well, then. You sure do have a nice day
Ahead of you.

__________________
"A thousand bodies piled up I never thought would be enough to show you just what I've been thinking."

LoneWolf

Hey! I like this! I tried singing it a bit (didn't go so great...I had to stop myself ). I think you'd do a better job of it. It would make a pretty cool song. I like the lyrics...very catchy. The only thing that kind of baffled me was the chorus. The last part..."You sure do have a nice day ahead of you". I didn't really get that part. Is it good because you left the guy alone? lol nothing big, just wondering. I'm not very good at poetry/lyrics critiques but I tried! Nice job!

LW

__________________
My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way. --Ernest Hemingway

Jude Knox

Actually, I hadn't planned on this being about a guy. Still, anyone can interpret as what they want. For me, it's really just for people in general, who are bored with work and show it. It's basically one of those, "hey, next week might be good for something," styles.

Like I said, I hadn't planned on focusing on a guy or anybody in particular. That line, 'You sure do have a nice day/Ahead of you,' is just me saying that someone else is having a good day and I'm just envious. But...that's just me.

You don't have to be. I'm not. Hence the forward prior to the poem. Just view it any way that seems logical to you. When I wrote this, I had Hot Hot Heat's "Middle of Nowhere" stuck in my brain. ::shrugs::

But Merci. You were very generous. I was expecting someone to nag about the placement of periods (that's a famous complaint on my posts) or the stupidity of the poem....yada yada yada. I don't think it's stupid. It's simple. But it's not stupid.

And I wouldn't attempt singing unless I had some excellent incentive for it...like diet Coke. Oh, no, wait, I've already got one. Uh, maybe...well, no, that won't work, either. Ooo! I've got it. I won't sing this song live unless I get the chance to see My Chemical Romance live. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Ticket? Oh, megacrap. I've already got a ticket...and it's for WARPED TOUR. Darn. Double darn. Darn x3. Le sigh. *ahem* lemme clear my throat....

::error...communication broken due to overwhelming friction in stereo sound system::

__________________
"A thousand bodies piled up I never thought would be enough to show you just what I've been thinking."

LoneWolf

OMG! You have tickets to the Warped Tour!?!?! Not fair! I want to see Fallout Boy! I already saw My Chemical Romance when they opened for Green Day...they were mega super duper awesome! *ahem* sorry...you're like the first person I've met who likes My Chem. Romance.

Back to the poem/song thing...ya, I get what you're saying. Makes perfect sense now! That's the thing with poems, they can be interpreted in so many ways. I'm glad I was slightly helpful...I'll look out for more of your stuff. Have fun


LW

__________________
My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way. --Ernest Hemingway

Jude Knox

Wow. My life will never be the same again.

I have composed an essay on my experiences at Warped Tour '05. That's one helluva concert to participate in, especially if it is your first time participating in a concert. Of that magnitude, I am still amazed that I did not fall on my ass at any point, even through the moshing.

Ah, well, pleased to be viewing my carefully constructed essay on this forum, entitled: I will be eternally grateful. And for safety sake, I am putting in large caps this slogan:

WARNING: MAJOR USE OF EXPLICIT LANGUAGE ENSUES. READ AT OWN RISK.


To Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Ray Toro, Bob Bryar, and Frank Iero,
I will be eternally grateful.


After seven hours and twenty minutes, dragging my sore thighs through crud-smelling grayish brown earth littered with empty water bottles and lost articles of clothing, losing myself in this brown sea of megaladons and minnows alike crusted with that earth as though they had been born of the stuff, the stage is nearly set and my heart suddenly veers upward to 180 as my scorched face turns towards the stage and crusted eyelids flicker to the first two band members to stroll casually out in front of an exponentionally growing audience, all of whom were anxious to begin this catastrophe as soon as the last one finished its set. A young one to whom I had been speaking on and off for the past half intense hour, attempted to move us closer. And that's when I realized that I was fucked. I was fucking fucked.

Too late was my mistake.

And one by one they ran out in this magnificent blur of black and white. Just then, I beheld this raw sensation of up most serenity and promise as though I had been converted to a religion. Their faces were unbelievably real and I knew then that this was the closest I had ever been to immortality.

For the first minute, I swore I heard a national anthem of some sort. It was the type of anthem I would praise had there been words to utter. However, I had not a second's thought before I had been proven correct: I was fucked.

"Well if you wanted honesty that's all you had to say." Push and shoved. For some reason, I felt my insides rip and shred and tear apart from the bone. The marrow from the bone, the bone from the muscle, the muscle from my lungs. Catastrophe is not a word that would give this sensation justice. More to the point: CAGED. "You guys are fucking animals." There was no better truth. And as I had discovered on our way home that evening, we WERE the raunchiest, drugged out head-banging skate-punks during the entire tour. But that is not the point of this story...yet.

As the frontman said, we were animals. I had become this creature I knew had been there hidden behind my naive bashfulness and matured sensibility and all it required was a stiff prod in the back, the head, the arms, legs, chest, and crotch to enrage it beyond control. I liken to compare my inner hostility to that of the Incredible Hulk. Despite my short stature, as well as my complaints that everyone should, "stop being so fucking tall," I was beyond saving what little sanity I had come in with that very noon.

I will be eternally grateful for My Chemical Romance because they were like the mirror showing my true identity. Twelve years of an utter stance as a loner finally brought me to these five men who shook me alive for the very first time in my life. They bore these elegant masks of insanity, calling upon their keen sense of motivation to fuck around on stage and still produce the best goddamn sound to and for my soul.

What I could see was unfortunately preturbed by waving mud-crusted limbs and bodies crowd-surfing from any random direction. I believe it was my up most displeasure that I had bore a kick to the face by a mud-covered shoe and forced to swallow those mounds as it was the only method of keeping my physical logistics sharpened and body attuned to every person, every sound and every fucking asshole who launched himself onto my shoulder, into the air and over this incredible mania.

In essence, I had found my home.

But this home is not for all people to comfortably pull up their legs and take in a petty conversation or two. This particular abode shakes violently as, "Oh baby here comes the sound!" screams from my lungs as though I had a megaphone strapped to my throat. The home I had run away from shakes violently on its own terms. It isn't raw, though, and certainly it does not give me this thrill of life. My home gives me the essence of suicide and whether that can be considered a thrill, I would much rather veer off from that debate as soon as possible. But this home, this mess, was indeed the one sugar-coated drug I had been searching for to end my chronic inner suffering...as well as my chronic migraines.

In a momentus swelling of determination, I had hitherto tossed my elbows as shields, protecting my chest and belayed my stance so as to adept to the great wall of gorillas snagging me, yanking me down. I did not fall. I never fell. I would never let myself fall. "Stand. Up fucking tall. Don't let them see your face and. Take. My fucking hand and never be afraid again." Those words did miracles for me. I was suddenly able to fling predators back enough to save myself enough oxygen for another go at protecting my body, self and mind meanwhile having the time of my life.

Also, I will be eternally grateful for Gerard, calling on all of us to, "step the fuck back." Several times in fact. Upon the stair of death, where I had but one last breath to save me before collapsing underneath this sea of rage, and to which I belched out quite unceremoniously to lyrics I had memorized since June, standing on the verge of fearlessness and panic, I had been rescued by my saviors.

I will do or say anything they tell me to. I have been converted to something that will never kill me or take away my pride but in fact enhance it. They will never offend me because I am their follower. I produced a banner to show my undying appreciation and assertive gratitude. I want them to hear me as not only a fan but a convert to their, dare I say, religion? No. Religion is indeed a very hateful word to me because it envokes the wrong message. I would call it the New Law. No rules. One law: Life. Is. Music. It is fortunate for me that I had found them and in my heart I will forever be endebted to their music, their flavor and their sensibility. They're raw, they're beautiful and they're life-saving My Chemical Romance..."The motherfucking greatest!" That's goddamn right.

Thank you for everything. E.C.G.

__________________
"A thousand bodies piled up I never thought would be enough to show you just what I've been thinking."