Seeing Some of My Idols

     So for the first time yesterday I saw a band that I have loved for about ten years, and yes I know that means I was about 8 years of age when I first listened to them. Music is a big part of my life and always has been, my mother once said that when she was pregnant with me she would listen to Frantic by Metallica and fetus me would kick along in time with the music. As early as I can remember I would sit and watch Kerrang and Scuzz, one of the defining moments of my love of music is when my mother walked down the aisle to Metallica's - Nothing Else Matters. That cemented my love for music and made me see all the love people have for music.

     I digress, last night I saw one of my favourite bands last night... who go by the name The Used. They have been people I have looked up to for a very long time and to be frank they helped me when I was at my worst, they were one of the only bands I would listen to when I felt like dying. They played almost all of my favourite songs last night and it brought me joy to finally know that I'd seen them at long last. All the other times they'd come to the UK I didn't have the money or I had nobody to go with because unbeknownst to me not many people I know like the used.

     The one song they didn't play was the one song I wanted them to play the most. Looking around the room a lot of others wanted them to play it too, it means the world to me because from the very beginning of the song it makes sense to someone like me. The song is called I'm a Fake, in the very beginning of it is a spoken word poem that speaks volumes, but in all truth the whole song does.

     The lead singer Bert McCracken is one of the cutest human beings known to man, whilst on stage he made both me and my boyfriend smile and quite literally go 'aww'. He is also one of the nicest human beings I believe, he spoke of the love he also has for music.

     This is the poem that helped me through all of my downfalls in the hope that it could one day help you;

          Small, simple, safe price
Rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets
This is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals
And I am not afraid to die
I'm not afraid to bleed, and fuck, and fight.
I want the pain of payment
What's left, but a section of pigmy size cuts
Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks
Would you be my little cut?
Would you be my thousand fucks?
And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid
To fill, and spill over, and under my thoughts
My sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter
I'm cutting trying to picture your black broken heart
Love is not like anything
Especially a fucking knife

Stay Strong Peoples