the rolex is faceless

I'm living in the 21st century, doing something mean to it. Do it better than anybody you ever seen do it. Screams from the haters got a nice ring to it. 

I guess every super hero need his theme music.

Back when Sex and the City was still making new episodes (and even after), girls were doing the whole "I'm a Miranda/Carrie/Whatever/

Forgot Her Name," thing. Though I didn't watch the show then, and even now, I've only seen a handful of episodes, I was interested in this whole "Which Character Are You?" bit. None of the show's characters really felt like me, so now when I watch shows, I tend to think, "Am I an Arya? Am I a Leslie? Am I a Hannah?" (Still trying  to find my soul sister).  And the answer is always, "No, not really,". So who am I? This is the totally cliche part where I am supposed to tell you that I have discovered that I am simply myself, and being an individual in this world of conformity is enough for me; that I am now enlightened. Sorry to disappoint you guys, but that's not the case; it turns out I'm just a Kanye.

As in Kanye West. As in the rapper. As in the epitome of asshole. As in kindred spirit. 

(Minus the fact that I'm not a rapper and I've never impregnated a Kardashian). 

Everything I'm not, made me everything I am 

It's really funny, because I wasn't even going to go see him this past Sunday, and now I'm listening to him non-stop. And while the lyrical beauty of my Avett Brothers or Jimmy Eat World is absent, the unfiltered arrogance and lack of tactfulness that runs through my own veins is very much there. 

Good morning, on this day we become legendary, everything we dreamed of...

From the moments of pain, look how far we done came, haters saying ya changed. Now ya doing ya thing.

Plus: 

50 told me go ahead, switch the style up, and if they hate then let 'em hate, and watch the money pile up...the good life.

So, it's not poetry. It's boastful and unapologetic, both of which I am. And maybe I didn't start from the streets to get where I am at, but some struggles aren't monetary. Everyone is trying to prove themselves to someone. 'Ye and I are no different, except that we're going to let you know that we've made it. More than once. It's all that power. 

There's a thousand you's. There's only one of me. (I'm trippin'. I'm caught up in the moment, right?). 

Kanye really knows how to make everything about him, make you think that he's the only one he cares about. Yeezy (not unlike myself) wants you to think he doesn't need anyone, but we all know how this story unfolds.

Chased the good life my whole life long. Look back on my life, and my life gone. Where did I go wrong?

And then again in Watch the Throne

When we die, the money we can't keep, but we probably spent it all, 'cause the pain ain't cheap.

Preach. 

I (currently) love my lifestyle. I am happy with the path that I've chosen, and the opportunities which it affords. Yet, I find myself wondering if it will stop being enough, and if it does, will it be too late? Will the person who's needed so little from others for so long finally feel that emptiness that can only be filled with love from another? Only time will tell, but if I'm on the Kanye path, it's looking that way. 

You got that big fame homie, and you just changed on me. You can ask big homie, man the top so lonely. 

It IS lonely on top. It's hard to be the coolest person you know, isn't it, 'Ye? I wish I was joking, but I too possess this conceitedness. It's a problem. There's being self-confident, and then there's us. It's working for him, but I think I might need to reel it back in, get grounded, humble it up a bit.

(baby, I got a plan...)

It just feels as though no one is ever enough for me. I have a hard time allowing myself to feel happy (back to that trust issue nonsense). I sometimes wonder how and why I still have friends. 

And I always find, yeah I always find something wrong. You've been putting up with my sh*t just way too long. 

So basically, I used to talk trash about Kanye as a person, and wouldn't you know, I was just talking trash about myself. Isn't that the way it goes?

I'm exhausted, barely breathing, holding on to what I believe in...

So here's to hoping that my selfishness dissipates and I find my Kim K, (figuratively speaking). 

...I'm the only thing I'm afraid of

it rained so hard it felt like snow

What. A. Weekend.

Thursday, I left the safe feeling of Memphis and jetted to DC to meet up with someone I'd not actually ever met. We boarded a bus, (after a Stella, of course), and chatted our way to Philly. To hang out with people I didn't know.

And it was fantastic. I saw the Liberty Bell, (sort of), had a delicious lunch, and drank some tasty brews. Also on the agenda: karaoke and Fireball, (but really, guys, when is it not?). I survived West Philly. It was so Fresh Prince of me.

Then it was another bus ride to NYC, (while nursing a Memphis-worthy hangover) to drop off our stuff at someone else's place. Someone else that I didn't know.

DAY 1: After a metro ride, botched bus ride, and a cab ride, we made it to Randall's Island, (before it became a swamp). On the agenda: Bear Mountain, St. Lucia, Dinosaur Jr., Best Coast, Of Monsters and Men, and Young the Giant. It rained all day, and towards the end of Young the Giant, the bottom started to drop out, and KOL and Pretty Lights had to cancel their shows. Bit of a bummer, but we made the most of it, and though we were disgusting by the end of the night, it was a great time. Plus Kenny and I won at Cranium once we got back to his friends' place, which is always something worth mentioning.

DAY 2: Brunch at Southern Hospitality featuring bottomless mimosas, (within 2 hours). To say we started the day off right is an understatement. Got to the festival, (via the correct bus), went to the silent disco, then caught Alt-J, (hello LOVE), Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, (actual bliss), found the only thing we were split on, (he wanted to see Kendrick; I wanted to see Kings of Leon--neither of us regret our decisions), and closed out the evening with Guns N' Roses. Axl Rose's face, on a scale of Shirley Temple to Courtney Love, was a Voldemort, but he sounded good. I wasn't crazy about the songs from Chinese Democracy, but hearing Sweet Child of Mine live made every one of those miserable seconds worth it. I only wish my dad could have been there to hear it with me; (it's our song, duh).

DAY 3: Walked to the festival this time, (a different way every day!). The weather was beautiful, much hotter than before, but I wasn't covered in mud from head to toe. We went to see The Revivalists, then Cherub, after which I forced Kenny to listen to Haim, (which is pronounced the dumbest way ever). Next we got up close to see Portugal. The Man, (phenomenal, by the way). Then it was Gary Clark Jr., who was just as impressive the second time, and his show set us up for an A+ spot for The Lumineers, (I can't even put into words how much I love hearing them play). Skipped the XX, but I danced across the field of mud to Bloc Party while on our way to grab a decent place for Kanye West. Roll your eyes all you want, but he put on one hell of a show. His new stuff is just stellar.

I was so sweaty. And sunburnt. And exhausted. But every bit of it was worth it, which I still agree with having worked all day after leaving for Memphis at 4:00 this morning. SO WORTH IT.

Top 5 performances (in no order): The Lumineers, KOL, Kanye (he debuted his new song "I Am A God") , Portugal. The Man, and Edward Sharpe. Runners up: Gary Clark Jr. and Young the Giant.

So, after this amazing weekend, I've come to some conclusions:

1) Kenny may be the best festival buddy on the planet.
2) I love to travel alone.
3) I'm not going to have any problems making a life in a new city.
4) I need to learn to pack lighter.

So, music, once again, got me out of my comfort zone, and opened up my eyes to all the good things that have yet to come. It's the most magical of all things. It's my favorite thing.

Ahhh, it's the magical mystery kind. Ahhh, must be a lie. Bye bye to the too good to be true kind of love.  Ohhh- I could die, oh, now I can die.