The Green Day Concert

Green-fucking-Day was awesome!

It was an amazing lineup. My Chemical Romance, Jimmy Eat World and Green Day. Almost like seeing three concerts for the price of one. We bought tickets two months before the actual concert, and it was two months of anticipation before the day finally arrived.

The crowd had lined up since 9 in the morning, despite the concert starting at 6. By the time we rocked up in the afternoon, the line was in the hundreds, to my amazement. Or perhaps, I shouldn't have been that surprised. It was Green Day, after all.

My Chemical Romance and Jimmy Eat World played well, but it was Green Day that the crowd was waiting for, and it was Green Day that the crowd roared for in anticipation. They played to a crowd nearing the tens of thousands. I was near the front of general admission, and the crowd stretched beyond my sight.

Mosh pits are always horrible, and I've been in my share. Battered, bruised and pressured from all sides, barely able to move against the crowd of sweaty bodies, especially when the moshing started. There's nothing like a mosh pit to make you appreciate personal space.

Then Green Day came onstage and it was worth every second. They are true entertainers. Not just musicians. Musicians are for CDs and the radio. They had the crowd eating out of their hand, screaming their name; oh how they played that crowd so well, and we loved every second of it.

Some bands are different live. Green Day is not one of them. They sounded so incredibly identical to their records; I could almost swear they were miming. Billy Joel's vocals are amazing, and their showmanship was unbeatable. True rock and roll, all the way.

They were crowd pleasers. They were political. They teased and they coaxed the crowd into feeling like they truly appreciated us being there and they interacted and they played like there was no tomorrow.

Words fail to describe how fucking awesome they were.

Roses Are Red

Red for the colour of passion.

Deep, dark red, with the softest velvet petals to the touch. I bring them to my lips, and my nostrils flare slightly, taking in the intoxicating smell of rose. I prick myself and pull back my fingers, steering clear of the thorns as drops of blood ooze from the cut.

Red for romance.

My first flowers, given without flair or drama, without thought or occasion, but just as a passing whim while we walked down the streets. Many a time I have admired flowers from far, but never would I have thought he would pick up a bouquet and present them to me, without fuss. There lies a romantic streak in him after all.

Red for love.

So easily said, the colour of hearts and roses, the flowery description of the feeling so often talked about in the world. And my heart beats faster, not for the flowers, but for the feelings that are attached, for the feelings I can see in his eyes and his smile.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

My heart is yours

And I love you.

The Fluidity in Life

The Internet is finally back on. Wahey. Funny how one becomes so dependent on so small a thing.

Life is such that everything is dynamic. All things fluctuate, and in the most, relationships with the people around you. As you change, so do they, and time reveals differences.

Cracks in friendships.

Or the strengthening of bonds.

One of the saddest parts is when two people just grow apart. Not due to disagreement or argument or disillusionment of any sort, but they simply change. And for no rhyme or reason, the glue that once bound them together no longer holds the same potency. And despite all efforts by both parties, there comes a point where they no longer try and are forced to sit back and admit that the company is no longer the same that it once was.

Sometimes it is sad to think of past friendships, those misty watercolour memories softened by time, of the past smiles and laughter shared, knowing that things are no longer the same. Sometimes there's that little stab of pain, knowing your place has been replaced by someone else, and you are no longer privy to those private smiles and private jokes.

I am reminded of a quote from Schubert, the composer.

"No one feels another's grief, no one understands another's joy. People imagine they can reach one another. In reality they only pass each other by."

Perhaps there is more in those words than I think. Yet, all those who have passed through my life have made a difference, no matter how slight, and it is through those interactions that I have become what I have become. If we have only passed each other by, so be it, but in the passing, people are changed.

And therein is the beauty of life.