In the disenchantment lane.
21. journalism student turned photography major. photographs. Toronto Maple Leafs. The Gaslight Anthem. music snob. sarcastic. friends. cigarettes. tea. coffee. acoustic sets. drums. movies. the city. beaches. cuddling. dirty boys. foul language. SKA. 90's alternative. books. philosophy. painting. collages. makeup. piercings. drunk punk parties. tattoos. sunsets. sunrises. honesty. persistance. sailors. skanking. love. shows. hockey. paintball. converse. blood. zombies. fate.
Listen to “New York City’s Killing Me” by Ray Lamontagne and The Pariah Dogs, and my mom asks me why I’m listening to country music.
Is it time for me to move yet?
(Source: cleverbycomparison, via fuckyeahgaslightanthem)
ERYN IS GOING TO YELL TO BRIAN FALLON THAT I LOVE HIM AND HE’S MY HERO. AND YES OKAY I REALIZE THAT HE MAY NOT HEAR HER, BUT THE WORDS WILL BE IN THE ATMOSPHERE AND JUST UGH. I NEED TO CRY.
GASLIGHT IS THE BEST BAND TO HAPPEN TO MY LIFE ALRIGHT.
Eryn is seeing Gaslight in under 10 minutes at Bamboozle.
I am sitting in my office listening to Gaslight on iTunes.
Life is unfair. Gonna go cry now.
September 17th, please.
The store I worked at today was full of babes. And they were all really super nice, but I spent my entire shift jamming Gaslight pandora and everyone in there probably thought I was weird.
Because when I say “jam” I mean I was really seriously jamming. Hair flips, air drums, mouthing the words, spinning in that glorious spinny chair.
I’m sleepy now.
Oh also, some guy gave me his number. Deleted it when he left because the broke the golden rule. DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME WHEN MY HEADPHONES ARE IN AND I AM OBVIOUSLY OCCUPIED. Rude.
