JANUARY
Trustkill releases a poll on their Instagram about who people want to see at the 25th anniversary of Hellfest. This is where my personal “beef” with Josh began:
Initially a joke between friends, as the Hellfest posting from Trustkill ramped up, I started joking about fighting Josh from Trustkill Records himself. He took it to Twitter, and almost every single post I made mentioning Hellfest received a cryptic response from either the Hellfest, Trustkill, or BOTH accounts.
I made a prediction list of bands that I thought would play.
The lineup setlist leaked and was promptly taken down, then released officially shortly after. Some of my predictions were SPOT ON, and the Archive was STOKED. Legendary bands like Zao and Prayer for Cleansing alongside killer new acts like Start Today, Contention, Godskin Peeler, and Scarab? Sign me the FUCK up!
HELLFEST EVE
I stayed up most of the night before my early morning flight into Newark. I got through airport security in record time. Every single flight I take has me going through the airport in the same manner, down to the clothes I wear: athletic shorts, an Against Me! Shirt that is more hole than fabric at this point, and a hoodie. TSA hates to see me coming. We took off, I put on some Hey Mercedes, and promptly passed out bent completely forward into my own lap in the world’s most spine-destroying configuration from hell. I think neck pillows are for cowards and I am far too young to care about my posture. I had also done an insane full-body workout the night before my flight, so picking my backpack up and getting off of the plane was a uniquely personal struggle born of my own horrible decisions. Let this be a word of advice: a full body workout the night before an early flight is not the move unless you really hate yourself. If I’m honest? I’ll probably do it again.
Figuring out the airport’s rail system and then NJ Transit was confusing, but after asking around I got to Hamilton, NJ where I got a mediocre black coffee and doughnut from Dunkin. I do not and probably will never understand the Dunkin hype. I think everyone on the East Coast has Stockholm syndrome, because Tim’s easily clears.
Joey and Lizzie picked me up, then we drove to the Philly airport to pick up Kay. I got out of the car to flag her down, probably because I was going insane after sitting still for a 3 hour flight and another 1 hour train ride. I think I just wanted an excuse to book it across multiple lanes of traffic like an idiot. After we picked Kay up we drove into Philadelphia, and though it’s not the Midwest, it’s the most home I’ve felt in an environment in months. I’ve been essentially stranded in Florida for almost an entire year, and I absolutely despise it. The trees were recognizable and everything was so, so green. I saw stacks of multicolored shipping containers littered amongst the sky-reaching industry. Buildings were brick and imperfect, which was such a welcome change from the flat, cookie-cutter monotony of South Florida. If I never see another white and teal shopping plaza in my life it will be too soon. Suffice to say, I was ecstatic.
PHILLY
We walked around downtown Philly for a bit and waited for Possum and Sera, who were coming from Northwest Ohio by car and being dropped off right by us. We took the subway and rode the elevator up. Somebody had pissed in the corner and I was standing just inches from the piss puddle. I truly felt like I was having an authentic Philadelphia adventure. I had been running off of a 1lb bag of trailmix and prayers at this point, so I was starving. We went to Chili’s where I got a double black bean burger with extra pickle and no cheese. It was alright, I guess, but I’ll probably never go back to a Chili’s – not many vegetarian or vegan options there.
We hit up a few record and art stores, met up with Sera and Possum, and then went and hit up a few more record stores. I made Sera bring me Ballreich’s potato chips from Ohio because they’re my all-time favorite chips. We scrapped in the parking garage, and then I spent the entire rest of the Philly trip making increasingly raunchy remarks about Sera’s dad’s “side gig at the corner”. I don’t think the sleep deprivation was doing me any favors, but we were both hysterically laughing while the rest of the archive was presumably horrified about the rapid escalation. We have that weird sort of friendship that you end up with after a few years where you have a concerning array of inside jokes and the ability to basically read each others’ minds. Everyone went and got Philly cheesesteak and I tried to buy a bottle of water and got ignored at the register, so that was fun. I got a frozen coffee and a frozen lemonade at Rita’s to try to kill the dehydration and sleep deprivation that was hitting me full-force by this point. I gave most of the coffee to Sera, because it had dairy in it, and I wasn’t actively trying to kill myself.
We left shortly after and hit up Wawa for a piss break and to grab snacks. I spent like 5 bucks on a bag of eggs, some spicy pickles, and a massive pretzel. Definitely not top of my list for snack options. We crammed the 7 of us in the car and drove back to Lizzie’s house. We introduced Possum to Fall Out Boy by blasting Thriller as fireworks exploded through the trees behind us. I think that’s as good of an introduction as any.
I ate my shitty gas station boiled eggs while Sera, Kay, and I inflicted Letterkenny upon everyone. It is at this point that I should say that I had been having phone problems for about a week or so before I left. I brought my flip phone as a backup in case anything happened, but I wasn’t expecting my phone to completely die. So naturally, it completely died. I freaked out a bit, as I needed to be able to access my phone to scan tickets, but we figured it would be fine enough to figure out when we got there. My general philosophy is that it’ll either work out or it won’t; I’ve had a chaotic life, so I’m the expert at winging it.
HELLFEST
We rocked up to Hellfest at around 9am, but we missed the first few bands while we were standing in line. To pass the time, we X’d each other up and I continued insulting Sera’s father. Sera did mine, and even her father was straighter than her lines! Some of us (mostly Sera and I) traded Letterkenny references, many of which involved us imitating Wayne’s fuckass stance and cadence and saying, “so you’re hanging out at Hellfest with your pals the other day…”
I had to provide my name to security to actually get Sera and I in, due to my phone being broken. Everybody except me signed a digital waiver; I have no idea what it said other than maybe “if you die at our festival it’s your own fuckin’ fault.” We didn’t end up having any problems getting in, but we DID miss Draped in Black, which sucked.
I took a piss in the bathroom off the main lobby type room almost immediately, so it was before most of the carnage started – the bathroom definitely got worse over the course of the festival, but I surprisingly wasn’t stepping in piss at any points, so that’s a win.
We saw Cross of Disbelief, who were awesome. Start Today was probably the most highly anticipated band of the morning, and they were fantastic. Youth crew revival-revival was back in full-swing with their high-energy set and a cover of Hardcore Pride by Ten Yard Fight. Some of the best kids currently doing it covering some of the best to ever do it. I definitely lost my shit. According to a friend of mine from their local scene, Start Today doesn’t play that cover very often, so that experience was awesome. Godskin Peeler played next, and so began my long, long list near-death experiences. We left to go bother some people sometime after Khasm.
BOTHERING PEOPLE
I walked up to where Josh was selling Trustkill releases and Hellfest merch like 3 times because I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to buy a Shattered Realm cassette or not.
We stopped by the Preserving Records tent and I picked up a copy of of Mirrors by Misery Signals, As The Last Light Drains by Freya, and Won by As Friends Rust. I was going to talk to A.J. about Wisconsin hardcore, because Joey told me he knew some shit, but I didn’t get much of an opportunity.
We hung out at the Smartpunk booth, and I talked about South Florida hardcore with Alex, who was running the booth. Sera stopped by the xSisterhoodx tent and got me a straight-edge wristband. We later went over to them and got X’d up with posca pens instead of sharpies. Alex overheard us talking about the “fight” between Josh and I, and led us inside to confront him.
I yelled at at least 2 different people in Misery Signals shirts as I passed them. I yelled at a guy in a Fallen God shirt, something along the lines of “YO! Fallen God! South Florida hardcore!” As of writing this, I live in South Florida, against my will. I have never been to a show down here, I just don’t have the transportation.
JAY AUST EMBARASSMENT
There were vendors and bands set up outside, on the upper floor, and in the basement. I made it my mission to bother everyone in a 7A7P shirt, and this led me to Hamartia’s table. Hamartia is made up of some Connecticut hardcore legends who went on to form bands such as Bury Your Dead and With Honor, the latter of which happens to be one of my all-time favorite bands. As my reputation stands, I’m THE Milwaukee hardcore guy, and wouldn’t you know it, you can also EASILY tie 2000s Connecticut hardcore back to the Milwaukee scene. This makes it all the more embarrassing that it took me at least 5 minutes to realise I was talking to Jay Aust.
I went up initially to compliment his 7A shirt, and I bought some old Hamartia stickers which were surprisingly vibrant to have been printed 20+ years ago. Jay asked me if my 7A shirt was original, to which I replied that it was a re-release of an old design. We got talking about the vinyl drop that they did recently, and I learned that he got the Dandelion variant that I missed out on because I slept in too late. Somehow, I mentioned Misery Signals and their original guitarist Jeff Aust, at which point he goes “oh yeah that’s my brother” and I completely bluescreened mentally. My friends were all making fun of me by this point, and thinking about it to this day makes me want to throw myself into the ocean.
Nonetheless, the conversation continued – he explained how Jeff and Matthew Mixon (7A7P) had been childhood friends growing up in CT, and how Jeff had left With Honor for a little while to go play guitar in Misery Signals. When Jeff re-joined With Honor, they booted the guy that had been his replacement. I said that really explained why Mixon was constantly wearing With Honor merch. I asked if their song Milwaukee was because of the affiliation with that scene, and I got confirmation that it was! I gained some crucial clarification about a few things I had been wondering about, though slightly at the expense of my dignity.
START TODAY
My interaction with them was brief, but I bought their latest EP, complimented their set, and thanked them for covering Ten Yard Fight. I pointed out my hat with a homemade TYF patch, and said something about youth crew revival-revival as I walked away.
LUNCH
We went to a diner about a block down the street for lunch. I’m sure we looked and smelled awful after hours of moshing, X’s melting off our hands. I feel sorry for the waitstaff who had to deal with hordes of sweaty hardcore kids, and I hope they made good tips that weekend. I personally ate two entire plates of vegan breakfast food – a french toast platter with fruit and a Mexican-style tofu scramble with potatoes. I probably drank 2 or 3 cups of coffee. Everyone else ordered a normal amount of food.
RETURN TO HELLFEST
We got back a bit later than anticipated, and missed Invocation of Nehek and most of Hamartia’s set, which were bands that Sera and I wanted to really see, respectively. We did get to see Azshara’s full set, which was one of our most highly anticipated events of the weekend and remains one of the craziest moments in my life. Sera and I were together in the pit for most of their set, absolutely fucking it up. Then we heard a very familiar opening guitar part, and we locked eyes in disbelief. Seraphina and I, both wearing 7 Angels 7 Plagues shirts, lost our collective SHIT as the drums kicked in for Azshara’s cover of Silent Deaths, Crowded Lives.
Next up was Onelinedrawing, during which our friend “Weapon” snuck up on several members of the archive. He found Sera right after Azshara’s set, then me, and he stood directly next to Kay for a good portion of Onelinedrawing – it took her forever to notice.
We saw Scarab, which is one of the bands I predicted would play back in February, and Balmora, another correct prediction. A guy jumped off the VIP balcony during Balmora’s set, and concussed one of the kids in the crowd on the way down. I overheard the kid later talking about puking into his hands afterwards, and telling his friend not to tell his mom about the injury. I turned to the one kid and told him he should check his friend’s pupils. I had been hit in the head a few times by this point, though not hard enough to be concussed or injured.
I’m pretty sure we left to take a break and get water during Drawing Last Breath and then came back toward the end of Final Resting Place. Missing Link played an absolutely brutal set, and this is where it gets crazy for me. It’s important to note the layout and timing of the sets during Hellphyra: all sets were back-to-back, and played on opposite ends of the room with less than 5 minutes between them. At the end of every set, there’d be a wave of people entering, exiting, and shifting drastically from one side to the other. I remember shifting sides after Missing Link’s set, during which I was separated from my entire group. I do not remember On Broken Wings starting their set.
BRAIN INJURY
From my perspective, Missing Link ended and the next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed with my friend Sera standing next to me. I was in some sort of neck brace. The first thing I asked Seraphina was whether or not I had hardcore cred now. The general verdict was yes, being brutally knocked out at Hellphyra and getting hauled out in an ambulance is hardcore as fuck. The second was about hockey – whether the Edmonton Oilers had gotten rid of Jeff Skinner yet (they ended up trading him to the Sharks while I was on the Amtrak back to Florida). My third question was whether anyone had found my Ten Yard Fight hat, to which the answer was no. Despite being literally in the ER, I was definitely the most upset about losing my Ten Yard Fight hat. What can I say? I have my priorities in order.
Nobody is exactly sure what happened to me, but the theory is that I got punched or elbowed in the face. My lip and nose were moderately fucked up, and my teeth felt weird. I was incredibly surprised to still have teeth. The external bleeding was minimal and I had no broken bones, but I was diagnosed with a subdural hematoma – essentially, blood pooling in the brain from severe head trauma. More severe cases require surgical intervention, which I was repeatedly told I had been extremely lucky not to need. They assessed me for any neck and spinal injuries before removing the neck brace. They did multiple CT scans on my brain to ensure that the bleeding had stopped. I talked to somebody about concussion symptoms and asked if I would be able to fly. I think I somehow tied this back into hockey – me with a brain injury defaults to rambling about hockey, apparently. My phone was still broken at this point, so I used a hospital phone to contact my sister’s husband, and let him know I was in the hospital. Sera left shortly after. I’m pretty sure somebody asked me if I had “had changes”. I was like “what the fuck,” and I asked them to clarify – they wanted to know about my… pissing situation. I tried and failed to piss in a bedpan, and I ended up somehow proving myself okay enough to be granted the privilege of having a nurse walk me to the bathroom so I could piss in a toilet. My reflection looked absolutely feral.
I hung out in the ER a bit longer and talked some nonsense about the Rangers with some random guy walking by– I don’t know fuck all about the New York Rangers– before they brought me back and did another CT scan. They warned me the contrast would make me feel like I pissed myself (it really didn’t feel like that at all, but whatever). There’s a lot of piss in this story, my bad. They moved to the pediatric ward sometime around midnight and kept me overnight for observation. I was determined to completely move myself from the shit-ass cart they had me on to my bed, which I did.
‘Weapon’ showed up the next morning for visitation and hung out with me in my hospital room. He spent the first hour or so sitting in one of those shitty mass-produced conference room type chairs. After a bit he was like “why the fuck am I sitting in this chair” because there was a much more comfortable looking recliner a few feet away. I called my sister’s husband back and he proceeded to yell at me for being an idiot and irresponsible and all that jazz. I apologized to ‘Weapon’ for him having to hear that.
The room itself was fine. There was a toilet in the corner, and the walls were a lovely shade of piss yellow. What else could you want from a hospital room? Getting knocked out and somewhat unable to form thoughts meant I was swearing at least twice as much as usual, which I felt bad about considering I was in the pediatric ward. ‘Weapon’ and I sat around, waiting for me to get cleared to leave. Right before I got discharged, they told me I couldn’t drink alcohol under any circumstances. I joked that they didn’t need to worry about that, but they doubled down on it and were like, “No really, you will die.” I just laughed. One of the other hospital staff in the room looked at me and went “Straight-edge, right?” Definitely a funny moment.
Though it had been Missing Link who said “I wanna see a prison riot in this room,” the REAL prison riot was On Broken Wings – multiple kids got hauled out by EMTs during their set, and the Twitter recap afterwards was a unanimous “holy fuck that set was lethal.”
After looking at my MyChart, I learned that they had labeled my religion as “Christian” and my sexuality as “Gay/lesbian”. For the record, I’m neither, but I guess getting knocked out in a 7A7P shirt gets you labeled as a gay Christian. Take that, Matt Matera?
I was discharged the afternoon after I was admitted and put on anti-seizure medication for a week. Weapon left, my squad and I went to pick up my medication at the pharmacy, and we went straight back to Hellfest around 2 or 3pm.
RETURN TO HELLFEST
I sat in the theater in the basement and ate lemon ice, then moved up to the VIP balcony with Sera. It was really nice of everyone to let us sit up there. I wasn’t able to mosh, on account of nearly dying, and I was incredibly out of it the entire time. I refused to take acetaminophen for most of the day. I finally caved when ‘Weapon’ walked to the Walgreens a few blocks away and brought me some. I still waited another hour or so to take any.
We sat in the basement cafe area for a bit. I ate 2 ice cream cones because nothing was open and I was starving. ‘Weapon’ got mexican food somewhere and he gave me the other half of his burrito bowl, which everyone will tell you I ate at a terrifying speed. Some dude complimented me on my shoes, which is crazy because everyone will tell you metalcore/hardcore kids have the cool shoes and pants game locked down. I sat around in these stupid sunglasses and my Earth Crisis hoodie, hood pulled over my head. One of our crew said I looked like xvx Ted Kaczynski.
I was gonna talk to James from Eighteen Visions, ‘cuz ‘Weapon’ got him to drop a diss on me a few weeks prior, and I wanted to tell him hi about it, but I was so out of it that I think I just lingered awkwardly by their table for a while. The archive got James to sign a vinyl for our friend Des.
Going up and down the stairs was a hellacious process, and the venue felt twice as crowded as the day prior. Half of our crew was practically babysitting me to make sure I didn’t fall down the stairs or attempt to get back in the pit. Sera fucked up her foot and couldn’t mosh anyway, so she hung out with me and made sure I didn’t accidentally kill myself. I had a few people ask me why I came back – including the security guy I signed to in ASL who helped haul me to the ambulance the previous day. I’m sure I looked insane when I responded “Hardcore, dude!”
I wached about half of 18v’s set from the balcony before I was dying too badly to continue. We went and sat outside the venue and got some cool photos of the crew. We left and Kay, Sera, Possum, and I went back to the hotel. It was a shitty hotel – the shower would not warm up, and it shot water everywhere. Kay bought me vegan reeses which was awesome. Sera and I inflicted Dracula Flow on Kay and Possum and then we passed out.
MONDAY
Waking up the next morning made me want to kill myself. I ate 2 or 3 packets of shitty oatmeal and drank a hot chocolate against my better judgement – I opted to avoid caffeine until my head injury healed. I sat on the ground outside and called my boss and I don’t remember what I said to him but I felt like straight ass.
We stopped by the Verizon store so I could get a replacement phone. Florida humidity and working in a hot kitchen essentially cooked my phone battery, and I had to pay the entire thing off, which was annoying. Joey had to help me navigate the conversation, because I spent most of it apologizing to the sales guy for having brain damage. I couldn’t form coherent thoughts hardly at all. Imagine the most exhausted you’ve ever been, then double it and try to read a Calc 2 textbook or something. That’s about the level my brain was on.
We began the journey up to Beacon, NY to visit Muttley who is everyone’s homie and also my girlfriend. We stopped at a Walmart and I bought some bullshit to make a sandwich with: tofurkey, vegan cheese, a tomato, an entire loaf of italian bread, and stolen mustard packets from the deli. I spent most of the ride teasing Sera for her obvious crush on Rachel, who she was sitting in the backseat with. I got Joey and Lizzie to play some wedding music at them. They sat back there and talked Star Wars and other nerd shit, and I knew they were gonna be together by the time Sera went home.
I remember being worried about my head injury and elevation changes. I made a shitty sandwich in the park; it was dry as fuck. I was mostly suffering and dodging the sun, because the light sensitivity was brutal. I think I stood on a picnic table at one point. I was trying to watch Sera and Rachel through the trees; they went down to the Hudson River, presumably to confess their undying lesbian love for one another. They were together by that Tuesday.
We headed back to PA and stopped at a gas station. I bought a doughnut and a matcha latte with almond milk from Tim Horton’s. Sera and I went and took a piss together, because real homies piss together. #Pissingwiththehomies
We got back to PA on Monday night, and I assume we ate food, I do not remember. I spent the next few days in Pennsylvania doing a lot of sleeping. I think I went outside and tried to figure out my insurance shit the next morning, but I was still too out of it to comprehend anything anyone told me, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown due to the combination of the meds and feeling so, so stupid.
Sera, Possum, and Joey all left on Tuesday. The remaining squad hit up 2 record stores in Delaware, where I bought some CDs: Save Yourself by Nora, Pictures of the Hotel Apocalypse by Sincebyman (which I was stoked on), and Further Seems Forever’s first 2 albums. I pissed in the record store bathroom, which looked like it was converted from a small closet. I got a chai latte at some small coffee shop that also felt like a closet, and we grabbed lunch at one of those places that lets you pick ingredients for a bowl. I was rockin the sunglasses indoors, and trying to see what I was actually adding to my bowl was hard. I think I apologized to the guy working the counter a bunch, but he did compliment my glasses. I still felt like death, and I’m sure the majority of the people we passed thought I was majorly hungover or something. I lagged behind the group majorly, which is radically different than my usual habit of out-pacing everyone I walk with. I learned Delaware is a state and not like, something else. We went back to PA and I think I slept some more. I ate a veggie burger and the rest of the Reese’s. I bought my Amtrak ticket.
LEAVING PENNSYLVANIA
I was the last person to leave. Lizzie made me a tofurkey sandwich and a pb n j to take with me, which was super nice of her. Those sandwiches definitely saved me on the train journey. Lizzie and her father dropped me off at the train station in DC. I got some kind of hot lentil wrap situation, a croissant, and a matcha at a cafe in the train station. I regret not buying food from there to take with me on the train, because it was a miserable 28 hours.
When we started boarding, I stood outside the train confused by everything that would ordinarily be simple for me. I sat in the wrong seat and got told to move by an attendant. Once the train started moving, it was incredibly hard for me to move around and get food and water and use the bathroom. I managed a walk to the cafe where I bought a bag of chips, but their vegetarian-friendly options were otherwise pretty non-existent. I did ask where to fill up my water bottle, so the walk across the train was worth it in that regard. I went through all the food I brought with me pretty quickly. It’s not the most common side-effect of a brain injury, but some people do end up absolutely ravenous as they heal. I am definitely one of those people, and that combined with my typical tendency to eat everything in sight just compounded my misery.
By the time 12pm on Friday hit I was in pain from sitting for hours, and the head injury was not helping. I was starving and exhausted and couldn’t find a comfortable position to sleep in. By this point, I was getting hit with really horrible emotional problems, which I later learned were caused by my anti-seizure medication, as well being common side effects of a brain injury. I was incredibly pissed off at everyone and everything, which is historically how most of my negative emotions manifest. I felt 15 again, and it was absolutely terrifying. I still had multiple hours to go, and I was alternating between wanting to cut off all of my friends and throw myself out of the doors. I was messaging our joint group chat losing my mind to the point that everybody was concerned for my well-being. Some of my messages just read “I need off this ride” “Will I die,” “Suicide now,” and me threatening to whip somebody’s screaming child at the wall full force and telling my girlfriend she’s not funny, fuck off.
I was also, for reasons unknown, craving a mango spinach smoothie with soy protein and Indian food. When my train finally arrived though, I told Brent I wasn’t hungry despite so much evidence to the contrary. I have no idea why I did that, I was just fucked up. I was swinging wildly between pissed and exhausted and sad, but I did end up getting Indian food. I spent the next few days eating everything in sight, including an entire box of cornflakes that I ate in one sitting. I never did get that mango spinach smoothie.
I spent a few weeks recovering and fighting it out with my insurance company – my bills still aren’t fully resolved. I ended up having to quit my job due to a combination of unforeseen circumstances, mostly unrelated to the head injury. About 2 weeks after the head injury, I started drinking caffeine in moderation again and easing myself back into going to the gym. I waited a bit longer to get back into lifting, per general recommendation (it increases intracranial pressure). It’s been almost 2 months now, and I’m back to my regular level of activity on all fronts.
Despite the brain damage and all the hell that came with it, Hellfest was the best experience of my entire life. It’s one of the first times I have felt truly in my element and normal. I’ve always felt disconnected from typical experiences and culture as a whole – I don’t have a lot of surviving family, I’ve never had a lot of friends or the opportunity to hang out with people. Even my college experience was atypical – I started at the tail-end of 8th grade, when I was 13.
Combined with all the strife that comes with coming of age during a global pandemic, losing both my parents as a teenager, and missing out on a lot of typical experiences due to growing up poor, I feel like I’ve spent my entire life trying and failing to find community. I was the sole punk kid in the town I grew up in, and I got watched by the police at every turn. I was the lone vegetarian volunteering at my local food bank, and I had a fellow volunteer get irrationally upset at me about it. I was the 17 year old in my 4th year of college walking 2 miles back and forth to school every morning, and people splashed me with puddles of rain and slush on purpose all the time. When I graduated college, I lost the only sense of community I had up until that point. When my sister kicked me out after graduation, I got shipped to Florida, where I’ve spent the past 9 months trying to get my life in order despite everything continuing to go wrong.
As fucked up as it sounds, getting hospitalized at Hellfest showed me there is a community out there for me. I’ve met some of my best friends through the archive, and I’ve bonded with all of them through hardcore. Through our archival work, I’ve come to realize that my friends and I aren’t so different from the hardcore kids of years past. We’ve seen that there’s no shame in defying convention: some of the best musicians have had weird as fuck living situations. I may not be on tour in a van, but the core of it all is the same: friends come first and the rest will follow. All anyone has to do is get out there, in whatever form they can.
I think we all compare ourselves to young tragedies. Their songs sound a lot like mine. It goes without saying that we’re all thankful; I think we’ll sing a little louder in the wake of all this strife.