Dear Adam

THE MIDSUMMER STATION TOUR. Concert in Tennis Indoor Senayan, Jakarta, Indonesia. Approx. 8.00 PM. This was on November 14th, 2012. 

This is my reaction, or review, or letter. To Owl City. On here.




Dear Adam,



I don't understand. I cannot begin to fathom why it bleeds with rich abundance, why it hurts so much. I can't look for clues. I can't unveil the definite, the rational answer to my imploration, to my emotional dilemma—why I feel so strangely alone. I am left lonely and forlorn and I don't understand why because there are many, so many people, and yet my body controls me and isolates me in my frigid and murky mind. And even as I had waited  out to meet you—to ACTUALLY meet you—I was smothered with the worst of thoughts and the greatest of absurd and stupid dilemmas that didn't seem so much like that in the eye of a bystander. I did not deserve to see you and I was not destined to hear you but I had been ushered in, and all I became was a blubbering mess. Twice a camera clicked as I helplessly stained my cheeks with more tears. You reduced me to noisy mewls and whimpers I besought to silence. You were the reason why, too. Because. BECAUSE, for long you had been my savior. And I thank GOD for you.

I am stuck in the noise and the hallucinations and the temptations, and you give me hope, and blinding lights... and tears I easily taste on my lips. I couldn't see you well through my hands and my tears but you were there, and you were of enormous height and you were glowing with brilliant effervescence. I heard people gasp and my sobs worsened. I do not know why I am like this when everyone else is not. You had rained on me and nurtured me. Your music has done this to me. You grew me into something else again; I can feel it as light as a feather but also as heavy as the world. I can feel you. And GOD; if that is Him. My feet ached SO MUCH and I begged them not to, but I felt the necessity to jump for you and for everyone, along with the crowd, alongside the beautiful sound.

Yes, I had dreamt with eyes open that you were effervescent. You were glowing with the atmosphere of an angel, and it feels too surreal and I cry because I feel silly and rude and I somewhat hugged you or you somewhat hugged me.

You wore blue and white stripes. You wore—oh—a handsome face that even brought my mother gasping. You wore the orange, the purple, the red, the white, the blue, the green lights. You wore wings. You wore faith. You wore the air we gulped down. You quenched me with ecstasy. AND I still haven't resolved how you could pull apart the glued pieces of a haywire heart and stitch them back together with elite but humble words and glimpses, doing it all over again in that exact series of brusque but tiresome events.

For many moments I let my head hang and my eyes click shut, just for a moment, so I could bask in the moment while you, Breanne, Daniel, Steve, and Jasper gave me dreams and disasters. I have more and more to write, to you, but I've been silenced with awe and worry I still need to get rid of. Thank you. Singing and dancing in sync with you from the middle of the audience was love, war, and pure insanity. I'll try not to forget.

It leads to this. God bless you, Mr. Adam Young.



With gratitude and admiration,

Amber

Dementia

Hi.

This week I have been staying up all night (like I don’t do that regularly), leafing through Edith Hamilton’s MYTHOLOGY, fangirling more and more, and accomplishing (at least most of the time) the challenge of keeping my face stoic. Because I must be mysterious like that so I can fool people into believing I am a robot.

I’ve been focusing a lot on the beautiful (and unreal!) story of Pgymalion and Galatea – a woman-hater sculptor falling for his own work. Oh my, that sounds conceited of the guy, Pgymalion, but no. I think he’s just very desperate and all that. He goes crazy for his masterpiece and Venus understands and grants the gorgeous sculpture life, thus showering Pygmalion with happiness. Then later he names his wife Galatea and they have a kid.

My heart. (And my head which won’t stop bugging me with prompts. Shhh, head, go away.)

There’s another story I’ve read, and it apparently resembles Romeo and Juliet so much. The tale of Pyramus and Thisbe makes me want to weep. Then there’s the story of the musician Orpheus and his lover Eurydice, and I go bawling (internally, of course – I keep my cool). These two stories are so freaking tragic that I want to rip my head off. Alas there are happier stories which keep me from dissecting myself. Weeee.

And, um, the reason for my recent fangirling frenzy is because Adam Young collaborated with one Mark Hoppus and the outstanding outcome of their collision is right here:

I wanted to cry in the dark right after I heard its intro. It’s the epitome of perfection, I TELL YA. NOW LISTEN TO IT BECAUSE I AM USING CAPS LOCK TO ENTICE YOU. DON’T JUST STARE AT THE SCREEN. FRENCH THE LLAMA (ooh, a Nerdfighter reference). YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO LISTEN.

Bleh. I'll leave you with a smile (the not-stoic me) because I hope you're smiling, too.

I'll be tarrying around.

Driven Madness

Reality likes to sink in very often – so often that I end up spinning like some queen instead of drowning. If Reality’s no. 1 habit is appearing with and like a bang, then Fantasy’s is pulling dreamers into their favorite (or at least one of them) pastimes: Daydreaming.

Hate knocks on the walls around here. This always makes me do something. Perhaps drawing lines on my skin could be the anti-pain version of actual cutting. It’s for cowards – people like me who are not brave enough to even get something pointy and sharp. I like movie-gore on the screens, big and small, but blood on myself by point-sharp-thing already freaks me out just by thinking about it.

Unreachable & Unreal people/things make me happy.

People who KNOW me – big word – know I love some stuff. Books, Owl City, Adventure Time. Not all music can heal – not all make sense. The music-magic gives me the familiarity of home. Some home so far, far away. Faces like Adam Young’s make me happy.

Also his smile feels warm.

Alone time makes me happy.

And so does understanding.

I want to create something worth people’s time.



I want to feel literature everywhere. I want to bite on it like the most attractive cherry pie ever, then chew chew chew – taste the beauty of the words I know. Bitter but sweet. To create. To feel words creeping up to me from an image. Feel. Emotion. Know them under my skin. Acknowledge the birth of thoughts and realization. Move your tongue to the hurricane of words. Kiss the inked lines across my hands. My arms. My fingers. Block out their hysteria and breathe in my own.

I am hungry.

And I hate, and I love.

Decipher

What I see in some parts of songs from a wondrous musical project created by this remarkable man whose name is Adam Randal Young.

Depression, please cut to the chase
And cut a long story short
Oh please be done
How much longer can this drama afford to run?

It doesn’t just cut to the chase, truthfully. You’ll have to find a way to cut it yourself or just merely wait for something else to do the job.

Drama runs as long as you let it. You can control it. You can reach out to it and dispose of it. It’s all garbage and conflicts you don’t need. It all sucks everything into nothing. Waste, waste, waste.

It turns out there’s something less complicated than therapy for depression.

Dive in and swim away
From your loneliness and miserable days

And when you wake up on your own

Look around you ‘cause you’re not alone

Let your hopes go and they’ll survive

‘Cause this is the future and you are alive

You’re headed home

You’re headed home

HOW CAN I POSSIBLY SWIM AWAY?

It just feels like I am alone. Lonely, lonely, alone.

I’m attempting to be glad that I’m alive in the future. Because it’s so difficult. Reality’s embrace is turning into a death grip. I’m searching for space to breathe in everything innocent.

I’m trying to find home, all right. I’m on it.

I’m on it.

Home is a boxcar and it’s so far

Out of reach

Hidden under umbrella beach

Where in the universe is HOME? MY STRAWBERRY MILKSHAKE, I couldn’t seem to find it before.

It takes labyrinths, sacrifices, bawling, and God knows what to arrive to this beautiful abode. It’s where you’re happy. It’s where everything is right to you. It’s where your reverie is. It’s where your dreams come true.

It is hidden somewhere unexpected and odd.

It’s far. I warn you: It will be a beastly journey.

I feel like I’m falling

So darling, don’t let me go

Falling. For me, it’s not the kind of “Ohmygosh, I think I love you” falling. I never have that kind of falling. It’s more of a “Oh crap no, why the heck is the depression back?” falling. Yep. So familiar.

I could (most of the time) honestly feel my grip on happiness failing. My palms start to become sweaty and WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH–

I was about to surely fall into a sea of starving sharks and hospital needles until this darling – this dear – comes in and becomes my hero, gripping onto my wrist and wiping all my cold tears off my cheeks.

If the bombs go off
The sun will still be shining
Because we've heard it said that every mushroom cloud
Has a silver lining

Bombs will go off. Nobody has a life that doesn’t blow up even just a few times.

But, hey, the sun still seems to be hanging up there. Hi, sun.

Optimism just squeezes itself out of the letters of these words. I can hear it. It gives me this kind of blazing hope, and it proves, at the same time, that there is always that place in life where you can see all the good and the warmth and the certainty of something way brighter than some stinking, gloomy hellhole.

                                                                                     

Deep inside of you, there’s a ruby glow
And it gets brighter than you and I will ever know

This musician knows how to assure.

People had called me “smart,” “wise,” and “intelligent.” Please don’t think I’m boasting here. I had just stated the words people in different ages have described me. They gave me definition, labeled me, had given me a name tag, scribbled onto my head what they see in me, pointed in my direction.

I can’t see it. Blind. I can’t see myself. It actually takes a lot to.

But I don’t see why they do call me those adjectives. Maybe they just wanted to make me smile. Maybe they just want me to think positive. Because I am a bit pessimistic.

But sometimes, I do see something when I’m happy and warm and all fuzzy inside. I feel as if there’s this inexplicable glow inside of me, somewhere right there.

And, sometimes, I believe that only I can see how bright it truly is.

Maybe I'll write
To save my life

Writing. Dear goodness, I love the feeling of picking up a functional pen and proceeding to spill out all my thoughts and all my soul on paper, in the form of illegible, loose handwriting. Even through my mother’s ex-laptop, I have the ability and access to type like a maniac, to push on the keys, to exclaim.

Writing has helped me in those moments wherein it’s Doomsday for me. Apocalypse. It is maybe my second favorite thing next to Music. I write poetically; you’ll have to carefully decipher my emotions through my cursive handwriting plus the baffling metaphors to get to what I wanted to deliver.

Words move me, whether they are in a song or not, they do. They know how to push me to my knees and contract my chest.

They know how to heal the open cuts and kiss the sorrow few by few.

I've been longing for daisies to push through the floor
I've never really felt like this before
And I wish plant life would grow all around me
So I won't feel dead anymore
So I won't feel dead anymore

The feeling of death. Emotional death, to be more specific. Well, it’s not really the death of my emotions. Maybe I’d rather say “the almost impossible downward tumble of my feelings.”

Being a teenager is hard; depression strikes. It isn’t permanent. Teenagers are moody. But it’s depression, nonetheless.

And, yes, it is depressing. It is PAINFUL. Of course, duh.

Feeling dead and numb is sad, and it won’t stop the tears from escaping. No way. It will just worsen everything. And I just have to wait there for everything to be sunny and bright again. I’ll have to wait for happy, shining life to creep back into me. It isn’t automatic. It is never automatic. Like I said, I’ll have to wait. I will long for it. Even if it takes more than usual.

If we dissolve without a trace
Will the real world even care?

I always wonder about it: If I just disappear, how will people react? I am ignored in class because of my nature, because I would rather be quiet than gossip, because of my obscurity in being social, simply because of my introversion – my shell. And I’m curious about the future, if I do float away into nothingness. They probably will not notice my absence if all they used were their ears. I’d be flushed down into oblivion; they are oblivious and inattentive.

I am afraid of being too unimportant to people who know me.

I'll travel the sub-zero tundra
I'll break glaciers and frozen lakes
And that's just the tip of the iceberg
I'll do whatever it takes to change

Personality and attitude these days of teenagers who holler and skip about have been deemed to be, well, ugly.

And some of us, it may not be a very noticeable percentage of adolescents or even the teeny bit noticeable, have been trying to improve or change.

Change is hard.

But I think I have been on its road for a while already.

I am not my own

For I have been made new

Please don’t let me go

I desperately need You

It. Is. Hard. To. Believe.

I’m trying harder.

If my heart was a house, you’d be home

Not a romantic sentence for me.

But it is the most TOUCHING, HEARTSTRING-TUGGING, LONGING, TEAR-BRINGING sentence that had ever been put into a song and had brought shivers to my spine and goose bumps to my skin.

I know where home is. I know where home is. I know where home is.

The Magic of Owl City

Hi.

Last Wednesday, October 26, 2011, my father and I had attended a concert. And not just any concert. An Owl City concert.

It’s the All Things Bright and Beautiful Tour, baby.

Of course, I was pretty much stoked about the whole thing. I was going to watch Adam Young perform. And not to mention the beautiful band members (for the tour). We were already lined up when a woman started shouting out questions about Adam, and whoever answered them correctly would get a backstage pass. Now, guess what. I didn’t get a backstage pass. Seriously. I began to feel depressed about it as the line moved slowly. I almost freaking met Adam. It’s one of the reasons why I have Post Concert Depression right now.

Well, so, we entered the tent after several minutes. My father and I were able to stand at the left side of the stage, right in front. Two boys beside me (who were younger than me) were talking on about meeting Adam and getting him to sign stuff like a poster and their copy of the ATBAB album. I was vexed at myself by the time they were boasting about it to this girl (who I thought was also younger than me, but my father said she was older and just shorter), showing her their stuff-signed-by-Adam-Young stuff. I couldn’t help but be so envious about the fact that they had met him.

Eventually, the concert had officially started. I can’t express how magnificent it was. Adam started drumming, and Breanne Düren was basically in front of us. And, shoot, the lights! They flashed everywhere. I jumped almost the whole time, and flailed my arms everywhere. The people on stage were so alive and energetic that you could feel pangs of their energy bouncing off to you. I didn’t care that my eardrums felt like they were shattering and that my feet were aching from all the standing. I loved it when Adam would interact with the crowd. All were enjoying.

At the end, Adam sang If My Heart Was a House.

And everything felt perfect. I had tears streaming down my cheeks right when he sang the first line. Owl City has this positive impact on your life. If you have depression, I recommend you listen to Owl City. It’s a home. When no one is there, Owl City will most likely be. Life is a rollercoaster, true. Owl City is what keeps me hanging on. I wish Adam knew that he was my best friend.

Amber

This World

For five tiring days in a week, I am surrounded by people who are my age or younger or older. To my right when I’m in sitting position is a noisy, new student who thinks he’s so bad. To my left is a comedian, making the class laugh and cough. We’re either forty or forty-one in St. Aloysius. There are foreigners: white skin, different language that tempts you to make fun of them and thick accent that makes you stare stupidly and say: “What?”

Starting high school is scary and I want to hide and bathe in Oreo-covered butterflies. But, of course, I cannot. There are limited things you can do in the real world. An inspiration who is namely Owl City (OWL CITY IS ADAM YOUNG) has sung: “Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.”

Reality is crazy and true and happy and sad and is a silly rollercoaster, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, makes you hurl. I, as an introvert who spends some of her time (or most of her time) being quiet and daydreaming, would rather be alone. I may look like this young, naïve, big girl because that’s what my outside appearance tells you but I feel like Adam Randal Young: shy, quiet, introverted in so many levels and lonely. I have realized that I am starting to relate to Mr. Owl City’s songs more than the known enchantress a.k.a. Taylor Swift’s songs. Is that a good or bad thing?

I’ve been a Swifty longer than I’ve been a Hoot Owl. But I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter if you’ve been there from the beginning, it matters if you’ll be there until the end. But I would never want their music to stop playing. They say: All good things come to an end. Aye?

I love fantasy. The world I imagine inside my head looks prettier than dump sites and seemingly endless bombings.

Life is quite surreal.

It’s a mystery and I don’t know a lot of things but I do know that this is life.

Owl City makes me happy. All Things Bright and Beautiful is too out of this world to be able to be described in words. His songs have meanings behind their lyrics. I highly recommend listening to Owl City. Happy drugs.

I’m simply papier-mâché, delicately pulled into this world along with water, glue and newspapers.

Being mainstream means fitting in and going with the flow (or, being more specific with my words, crowd). I chose to sit and watch and dream. It isn’t easy because sooner or later you’ll get pulled out of your reverie and get forced to read thick textbooks you despise with all your being. You sit in a closed room with twenty plus kids you have to get to know. You make your ears listen to the sentences that are coming from the teacher’s always moving mouth because you don’t want to fail quizzes and tests because your parents pay for your education. You raise your hand repeatedly to answer questions about technology and the Philippine archipelago so that you won’t have to see writings on your future report card saying you have low grades and you need improvement.

We talk tongue twisters and malnutrition but do we ever get to perfectly keep them in our tightly screwed minds? We tend to forget the things said in a discussion after the discussion. We only get to remember bits by tiny bits of integers and the talking dog when we’re 40 year olds. They’ll remain bits. Just bits. Unless we attend high school again when we’re starting to grow gray hair.

I’ll let myself learn but sitting and staring and making yourself look like you understand everything in this world is starting to get more boring and more boring. I bet after a hundred years, school hours = 0 hours. Just 20 minutes. Let’s hope for planet Earth’s future.

#EqualityForAll

News

Oh hello there! I have realized that I haven't blogged (Tumblr doesn't count) for a while.

Anyway, if you're a Hoot Owl, you must already know that Adam Young has been appearing on tinychat for three times. And I haven't even grabbed the chance to be there while he was there! I blame time zones. Damn you, time zones. Well, at least time zones don't respond to whatever you say. I don't want to hear the time zone whispering, "U MAD?" in a deadly tone. Brrrr.

Anywho, I am impatiently waiting for May 2. International tour dates, people! And, of course, I can't wait for June 14 too. ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB ATBAB. STOKED.

And I can't wait for the new Taylor Swift music videos! MEAN AND THEN THE STORY OF US. Who else is super excited? :D Cuz I know I am! *dances like a whale*

OK, people. That's it. Thank you for the views. That is lovely.

And if you have more time to waste, go take a peek at lavacicles.tumblr.com. :) <3

Smitten

I don't know if these are really in order or not. I just wanted to post these. ;)

I Don't Have a Good Title

Hey there. Read along.

I learned that Adam Young still has a crush on Taylor Swift. And that made me mentally squeal. Can't they just be an official couple already? Do we really have to wait for whatever they're busy with to end? MEH. not cool, d00dz. not cool.

And Taylor Swift (@taylorswift13 on twitter) now has 6MILLIONSWIFTIES. Isn't that insanely amazing?! I knew itttt. Oh and two words: MUSIC VIDEO(S).

I also consider myself an official Hoot Owl. CHEERS PEOPLE.

So if you don't listen to Owl City music, let me say this: WWWWHHHYYY?!?!?!?!?
I may or may not have to shove ice cream sandwiches down your throat.
I think know Adam Young is amazing. As in you-should-listen-to-his-music amazing. And his tweets are funnehh. Most of them are very entertaining. THUMBS UP.

He's pretty cool. IKR?!

TAYLOR SWIFT, Y U NO RESPOND TO ADAM YOUNG?

Lyrics

Lonely Lullaby

Owl City (Adam Young)
Symphony, of silver tears.
Sing to me and sooth the ring in my ears.
Overcast, these gloomy nights wear on.
But I’m holding fast, ‘cuz it’s darkest just before the dawn…

I sang my princess fast asleep, cause she was my dream come true.
Oh Annmarie believe me, I loved you.
But now those lonely lullabies just dampen my tired eyes
Because I can’t forget you.. Because I can’t forget you.

I’ll dissolve when the rain pours in,
When the nightmares take me…
I will scream with the howling wind,
‘Cuz it’s a bitter world and I’d rather dream…

Dizzy love turned a star lily pink
And hung above our lids, too flushed to blink.
But icy blue froze the fairy tale cold,
Though I treasured you, and you sparkled with someone to hold…

I sang my princess fast asleep, cause she was my dream come true.
Oh Annmarie believe me, I loved you.
But now those lonely lullabies just dampen my tired eyes
Because I can’t forget you.. Because I can’t forget you.

I’ll dissolve when the rain pours in,
When the nightmares take me…
I will scream with the howling wind,
‘Cuz it’s a bitter world and I’d rather dream…

I’ll dissolve when the rain pours in,
When the nightmares take me…
I will scream with the howling wind,
‘Cuz it’s a bitter world and I’d rather dream… And I’d rather dream…

(Annmarie)
I’ll never forget you…
(Annmarie)
I’ll never forget you…
(Annmarie, remember me)
I’ll never forget you…
(Annmarie, remember me)
I’ll never forget you…
(Annmarie, remember me)
I’ll never forget you……


I haven't listened to this song yet but the lyrics just touched me. I don't know if the lyrics are right or wrong because I just got this from another fan...

Video

Like it? NOOOO....

Love it?

Totally.

Explanation

What exactly is Owl City?

Adam Young: A city where happy owls live, work, breathe, ride bikes and fly kites. They pick flowers, sing in the shower, salsa dance, swim in pools, knit sweaters and read dreamy books with happy endings. They roller skate, watch romantic movies, drive clean cars to church, hold hands on the beach and run on treadmills after they eat a lot of pizza. They enjoy vanilla skies, swinging on swing sets, walking in the rain, pajama parties, wearing fuzzy sweatshirts in the winter and imagining what it would be like to breathe underwater. Owl City is an innocent place where life is pleasant and enjoyable. It's a place where pretty owl girl flight attendants smile at handsome boy owls at 30,000 feet. It's a place where little owls sometimes get lost in grocery stores but they always find their mommas again.

:)

If my heart was a house you'd be home

My family and I just arrived home more than 30 minutes ago and I am chillaxing for a while. While I was indeed chillaxing, I discovered that Owl City's Adam Young penned a message to Taylor Swift through his web site and it. made. me. swoon.
This is what it says (according to my "research"):

"Dearest Taylor,
I'll be the first to admit I'm a rather shy boy and since music is the most eloquent form of communication I can muster, I decided to record something for you--a sort of a 'reply' to the breathtaking song on your current record. This is what I wanted so badly to tell you in person but could never quite put into words:
Everything about you is lovely. You're an immensely charming girl with a beautiful heart and more grace and elegance than I know how to describe. You are a true princess from a dreamy fairy tale, and above all, I just want you to know...I was enchanted to meet you too.
Love, Adam."

... And my "research" also told me that comments are gushingly positive: "This version gives me goosebumps." "Taylor, if you're not going to marry him, I AM." "Gosh, he's wonderful." "This gives me hope that there ARE good guys out there!" "I bet it will melt her heart."

AAAAHHHH! I need to download Adam's version of Enchanted! People say that it's heart-warming.

Enchanted,
Amber

P.S. Perfect timing, Adam. Just when Valentine's Day is around the corner.

Wonderstruck

Good Afternoon.

My family and I just arrived home from looking around the mall. We ate first because I have not eaten yet then. We shopped. My mother, my brother and I went to the Department Store to look for Valentine's Day gifts for my teachers. My mother loves giving, I guess. We ended up buying chocolates. Cheap but yummy chocolates. We ate at McDonald's while waiting for my father. He was doing the groceries. So, after all that, we went home and I am right here, right now.

And if you wonder why the title of this post is "Wonderstruck", this is why:
This morning, I kept wondering. I was so curious. And I do not like that part of me. I am weird. But, almost everyone is. Anyways, I was wondering what would happen if I was someone else. Someone entirely different. A stranger to my family. Kind of weird. And what if I was never born? Who would my best friends befriend? Would my little brother become a big brother? All of those were from out of nowhere but my head. And what if I get reincarnated? Nah. Haha.

So, yeah, that's all. My curiosity is not cured.

(Anyways, I know this is a different story, but I learned that Taylor Swift's song titled Enchanted was written and sung by her for Adam Young. Haha! Glad to know. And I want to thank Adam Young for the title "Wonderstruck". I got it from him.)

Love,
Amber

LaLaLa

My second post.

This is so weird. I feel as if I have been blogging for months years already. Haha. Twitter helped me a lot.. Anyways, after I published my first post, I went biking around the village with my father. I always enjoyed riding bicycles. And I think I always will. I love feeling the wind in my hair when I get too fast. I love feeling the cool breeze on my skin, too. So, I bike when I can. Kind of like blogging. Haha.

Another thing I enjoy is music.

Music says words that I cannot. I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift and I am attending a concert of hers on February 19, this year, with my mother. She is not just a beautiful, tall American girl. But, she is also a good friend to strangers. Like me. She inspires me, well, that is obvious. She is magical.

I also like Owl City. Heard of Adam Young? I LOVE his songs. Well, I love Taylor Swift's songs more than I love his. But, I can be a fan of anyone. He makes magic. No, he's not a magician. But his music IS magic. His voice makes me feel like I'm floating in outer space. It is a very lovely feeling. I love him and Swift.

I cannot say I'm a Justin Bieber fan. It's not like I am not a fan, but I just cannot deal with this thing called "Bieber Fever". Ugh. But, I have to confess, I am also attending a concert of his this summer. Oh, well. I am not and will never be addicted to him. Ew. That isn't me.

So, to make the long story short, I heart music..... and biking.

Love,
Amber