Fuck Life. There...I said it.

My sentiments are conveyed perfectly through those two amazingly succinct words, used in unison. Fuck, as in to be treated harshly...or sexual intercourse, and Life, which is the amazing mystery that no one can unfold, which is the obvious existence of our futile lives.

And yet, to fuck life is wrong.

For Life is a bitch...and it's too short.

Therein lying the problem. She (it?) is a bitch. I absolutely despise using the word "bitch" unless it's used un-judgmentally or in a colloquial exchange between two peers which accept the word "bitch." However, this word, this seemingly innocuous yet perturbingly (not even a real English word, but who gives a fuck) disturbing word, would describe very accurately the term "Life."

After brushing my teeth after eating an ungodly amount of Taco Bell items at an ungodly hour after an ungodly wait after receiving our said Taco Bell items, i finally see the solace in the screaming...

It all dates back to when i was with my Favorite Former Girlfriend, Michelle. I went to my first, FIRST concert with her; The main performers were Gym Class Heroes, with some random starting acts, which included K-Os, some guy who rapped like Atmosphere/Slug, and some random rock bands.

While we were in line, waiting to get into this fairly underground, yet surprisingly swanky spot called Boardwalk. I specifically remember asking Michelle, "Hey so when are we leaving for Santa Cruz?" And obviously she's like, "WTF, no the concert's in Sacramento. There's a spot called Boardwalk."

And obviously i feel fucking lethargic.

Anyways, so we're waiting in line, and i notice that there are two random tour buses to the side of the building. And i'm like, "Cool, must be the opening acts' buses..."

And, of course, to my surprise, Desashi, the guitarist from GCH, steps out of the farthest bus and skates away to the backstage.

"HOLYCRAPTHATWASDESASHI!," I automatically exclaim. Freaking going teenage-girl postal, i try to calm it down. But of course, i go fucking bananas when, ten minutes later, Travis aka Travie aka the fucking LEAD SINGER for GCH, comes out of the tour bus nearest to us, and starts to clean up the area around the buses. He comes across some random strewn across shoeboxes, with a pair of shoes in them, no doubt. He immediately yells to the people waiting in line, "Hey, who wants a pair of free shoes!?"

FUCK! THOSE ARE MINE YOU DELUSIONAL STARSTRUCK LINEGOERS! BACK, YOU FUCKS! ALL OF YOU!

Ok, so i didn't fucking destroy the building or anything but i do remember just jumping up and down to get his attention, going freaking Cuckoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs...

And he yells to me, since he's like twenty to thirty feet away,

"They're size 11!"

"YEAH!"

"They're Etnies!"

"ALRIGHT!"

"OK, here you go!"

"OH FUCK!!!"

He throws the shoes and, in mid-air i think, "Fuck, how am i going to make this look graceful..?" So i catch one and the other hits the floor, and i immediately look up to see if i'm about to get my ass Bumrushed or some shit, but luckily i don't.

Whew*

And so, as such, being the lucky benefactor of free shoes from Travis himself, i flip my lid. I say such statements as,

"Damn, i got free shoes and shit, Fuck the Show! I'm about to go put these up in my ROOM!!!"

Michelle, being the worrywort that she was, reprimanded me for my generous usage of colorful language. And by generous usage, i mean, i fucking fucked that shit up.

But anyways, we eventually get in, and Michelle's sister and her friend go to the bar to go avoid the hype in the crowd. But being that it was my first concert, i decided to live it up a little and move near the center.

I remember seeing the rapper that was slightly reminiscent of Atmosphere, with his anti-Bush/Gov't-in-general lines that were yelled a little too loud to be discerned by much of the majorly white crowd. I remember specifically listening to his verse when he, and some random guy right behind me who shouts the line along with the rapper but specifically into the back of my head, yells,

"Just because you've got feathers up your butt, doesn't make you a chicken..."

I was freaking chuckling it up after that shit.

A few acts after him was K-Os, who is known for such hits as Sunday Morning, Crabbuckit, Bboy Stance, Man I Used to Be, and many others. Ok, ok, i'll admit having listened to a majority of his songs. And by listened, i mean breakdanced, regulardanced, tricked, whatever the hell you wanted to do to it. He makes/made underground b-boy music, and it's pretty good. There's this video for Man I Used to Be...and it's freaking awesome...

Ahhhh. Tangent-rine.

So yeah, K-Os...music...concert. OH, right. So his set wasn't bad per-se; it was just that he didn't play ANY of those aforementioned hits that i had stated earlier. It's as if he needed to change up his style to impress those white yuppies at the Boardwalk. Well, K...i say FUCK THAT.

Or maybe he was just promoting songs ONLY from his new album?

Yeah freaking right...

And then...after K-Os, Michelle and I moved really, really close to front and center of the audience, but of course, everything comes with a catch...

The rock band that i was talking about comes on and ALL of the hardcore anarchists and lovers of guitar riffs and screaming lyrics and double-bass-pedal action rushed the center of the audience.

I specifically remember almost being toppled over. I was holding on to Michelle the way a scared child would hold on to their Raggedy Ann/Andy; i held on for dear life as the crowd started to push and shove to the music. The people jumping on me felt like a 500-pound gorilla started to pound the ground and my back and sides and i felt as though Michelle and I were going to die in this swanky, underground hellhole. But then, i stopped caring about the pushing and shoving. I stopped caring about my jacket getting ripped. I stopped caring about the fucking smelly white people. I stopped caring about everything else in the room except for my GCH shoes, Michelle, and the fucking amazingly loud, but amazingly amazing music.

I literally found solace in the screaming.

I found the rhythm that the people were fucking jumping on us, i found the ebb and tide to their movements. I became one with the push and pull of the rock music. My chest became filled with the bass of the drum and the crunch of the guitar. I felt the music, finally.

And finally, after what seemed like millenia, the rock band finished their set, encores and all, and left. Which, interestingly enough, caused a whole LOT of people to leave the audience. This of course, left me and Michelle to get all the way up in front AND center!!!

ZOMG. And Gym Class was next!!!

I remember them starting their first song, and me screaming like a teeny-bopper. Except manlier and hair under my armpits. Anyways....awkward.

I remember screaming, "TRAVIE!!! YEAHHHH!!!"

I remember singing every single word to New Friend Request. I still can if you want to sing it with me.

I remember going FUCKING CRAZY over Shoot Down the Stars singing every lyric, making hand gestures to the chorus, putting the fucking middle finger up when he would.(still my favorite fucking GCH song of all FUCKING TIME. At least until the new CD releases?)

I remember Travie picking his nose and using his other hand to make a fish hook in his cheek like every other word and it was AMAZING. He was my idol that night, and for many more nights and days and months after that.

I remember kissing Michelle for Scandalous Scholastics and MakeOut Club. ;D

I remember specifically thanking her for bringing me, and for making me feel freaking amazing.

I remember wanting to leave because i thought they were done, and then they fucking did CLOTHES OFF!!! NOOOOO! We left our comfy spots at front and center because we were ready to leave, but then they started with the encore and i was sad. BECAUSE HE CAME DOWN TO THE CROWD!!! AND RANDOM WOMEN WERE ON STAGE!!! GAHHH!!!

Oh well. I just remember a lot from that night. I was so close that i took a picture of him and i could've shown him the picture!

And remembering those moments makes me remember that i'm not happy anymore. Just a shell of my former self. But whatever. I'm trying to be a grown-up. It's starting to work.

I still wish that i could be happy though. I might not be an amazing person, but i could be happier. I wish that i were him.

Well, just remember. Don't Fuck Life. Because it's a bitch and it's MUCH too short.

-Matt.A

P.S. If you buy a fucking pack of cigarettes, i'm not going to talk to you the same way, anymore. I'm serious. You know who you are!!! I understand it's not fair. But so is fucking DYING. If you really care about who i am, then you'll be complacent. I only have two rules in my car:

1. Don't fucking smoke

2. Don't argue with the people in my car unless you're arguing with me, where that will most likely end up with you literally getting kicked the hell out of my passenger seat.

He loves you all so very much. I only choose to love a certain few of you.

In this video, Travis is rapping the lyrics to, "Shoot Down the Stars." Favorite GCH song, to date, besides New Friend Request.

Depicted Above: Picture taken of Travis when Michelle and I are close enough to give him a high five.