Pass Me Another Bottle, Honey.

I apologies for not using a proper title where it should be represent what's in this blog. Because sometimes the content would be a complete utter random mayhem. And matching things getting out of date. Not saying I'm following the date tho. I might need to emphasize the randomness here - Sorry.
Enough for the boring prologue, we might never enter the edge of the main content because as a writer I determine everything and I might end up not writing any.
Jack Barakat and the rest of the guys charm blew me away. They looked weirdly soft despite their rough words. They made me in love and for a moment heals me from the reality that sucked my blood slowly but sure. They substitutes the blood, keeping me safe from the weakness of truth. They are drop dead cool.
Some thoughts might not with me on this statement, but hey, don't deny the super power of musicians. I can't even elaborate, they just have the element that other, normal, profession can't have.
When you like someone the littlest thing could come up so big and caught the notice. Something wrong could be neglected and seen very right, like their untold tight jeans or their indescribable hot sweats all over the body.
Things are weird in this world, sometimes it's very unfair depends on the back ground. I might say yes for Alex using tight jeans, but if it's you, I might mock you from your back. Dude, nothing personal.
If I have to come up with a defensive statement, I might say that I am better than New York city that never sleeps which somehow I detest due to the belongings of the city to United States where it took my friends one by one to a significant distance. For your information, distance sucks terribly. Distance begin with a goodbye which has wrongly named with a 'good' in front of 'bye'. I will never be enough satisfied for saying I hate any kind of bye's. Dudududududu. Whatever.
I'd rather listen to Therapy.


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