One of the first cigarettes I ever smoked was given to me by Keith Buckley. With only him, 2 others, and myself standing awkwardly there on the side of the Wiltern Theatre, my insecurities made me not want to be that girl who was just there not talking to anyone. So I said, “Hey, can I bum a cig off you?” (because everyone knows you can usually spark up a convo by asking for a smoke..especially when you’re a girl) and he let me use his lighter. I smoked it. I smoked it fast. And it made me sick to my stomach.

I then proceeded to ask him who he was there for, and he told me he was in Every Time I Die. That made me even more sick, and I wanted to kill myself. Not because I felt like complete shit, but because I was there to see ETID, and I didn’t know what their lead singer looked like. 

I can’t help but go back to my early teenage years. I think of the day I was talking about Brad, Linkin Park’s guitarist, and my brother said “stop referring to them as individuals like you know them. you just listen to their music, you’re not friends” and I said back to him, “excuse me if I like to know the names and faces of the people who make the music I love, and what they do for the band”. I stood my ground, but stopped getting the names and faces because I looked up to my brother. 

This stopped after that night at the Wiltern. And my brother is an ass.

And this, this whole post…is SHINFO.

and I’m stoned.

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   the coolest story I’ve ever read.

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