Author: maydaygaskarth

Thanks For The Memories

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June 22, 2014 still remains a clear memory in the back of my head.

It was my first time ever going to Vans Warped Tour, and for being a middle schooler obsessed with Mayday Parade and All Time Low, it was a dream come true for my emo self.

Something about Warped Tour is just more magical than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve been to too many concerts to count on my fingers and toes, but which concert is one of my favorites? Definitely Warped Tour.

Warped Tour was beautiful in every sense of the word. So many different people were there. Girls with colorful neon hair, and boys with stretched ears and tattoos over their arms and backs. There were little kids on their parents shoulders, screaming the lyrics to every heavy metal song that played. Worries never existed at Warped Tour. Everyone was happy, and that happiness was contagious.

The crowds were huge and endless. Everyone constantly pushed to the front, crowd surfers were above my head every few minutes, and band members were jumping into the crowds encouraging everyone to let loose. There were no rules at Warped Tour. Everyone was accepted there, and it was accepted for everyone to go crazy.

The cross-country music festival has been going on for over twenty years. Bands like My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, and so many more started there before they were even famous. It hasn’t just been a place that has made my dreams come true, but it has jump-started the careers of so many bands that I love more than anything in my life.

Photo Credit: thebandbloggers.com

When I first went to Warped Tour in 2014, I remember waiting in line to go in, and I ended up seeing the drummer of one of my favorite bands walking through the lines selling cds. When I walked inside, I ran straight to the main stage when I heard “Check Yes, Juliet” playing by We The Kings. Shortly after, I found the singer of We The Kings signing autographs and giving hugs to people for free. I saw over ten bands that day, including Linkin Park, a band who just decided to show up for that day and perform a set. They only performed one Warped Tour show ever in the history of the tour, and I was there to experience it.

Then I went to Warped Tour again in 2015 with my best friend. It was over 100 degrees that day, and I almost passed out in a mosh pit from dehydration. I stumbled out of an Attila crowd covered in dirt head to toe, and I went through three water bottles before I regained enough energy to jump straight into another crowd for another band.

No matter the location, Warped Tour was where anything could happen. I was in the crowd for Black Veil Brides when I got a text from my friend telling me she met four different band members just walking around. That only happens at Warped Tour, because the bands who go there have such a strong connection with their fans that they just walk around the festival they’re performing at. There’s no overwhelming paparazzi, or security guards following the members around, and there’s no one making the band members uncomfortable.

That’s what made the music festival so special for me. There was a connection between everyone there. There was a connection between the bands and the fans, and connections between strangers. Even if you didn’t know the person, if you sang with them at one set, the connection was there. In 2014, I left my sister to head into the crowd for Falling In Reverse. There I met a guy who I rapped along with to “Bad Girls Club” and “I’m Not A Vampire,”  and I knew every word to those songs too, and I still do. But we were there, complete strangers horribly belting out the lyrics to two amazing songs, and I still smile at the memory years later. The connection was the music all these strangers had gone there to see.

Warped Tour has always been a second home for me, and I always hoped that I’d still be attending the festival when I was forty, or that I’d be going to the festival with my college friends. Sadly, 2018 is the last full cross-country run of Warped Tour ever.

When I found that out I was heartbroken. I had only gone to the festival twice, but they were some of the best experiences of my life, and I regret missing the last two years. After this year, there’ll be no more Warped Tour. No more memories to create, but the ones I made I could never forget.

However, I’m going to go to all the Southern California dates. I will run as fast as I can in the circle pits, I will hug all the band members I can, and I will sing my heart out while the sun sets over the horizon behind the stages. I will crowd surf to the front, and I will probably fall several times attempting it, but it’ll be worth it one last time.

Summer can’t come soon enough, but once it does, and once I step into the fairgrounds where Warped Tour is, I’ll never want to leave. I’ll never want it to end.

What I Learned From The 100

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Photo Credit: PureFandom.com

In January, I got the chance to miss three days of school and head up to Vancouver to watch the production of my favorite tv show, The 100. Now I probably know what a lot of people were thinking: this girl went on vacation to meet Bob Morley? Actually, yes, but while I did get to meet my favorite actors, eat sixty five dollar filet mignon, and find out so many spoilers for the show – and no, I’m not sharing – I also learned so much about the filming industry that I didn’t know before.

    1. A one minute scene that seems so well put together takes hours to be made. Literally, one small scene, and it won’t even be the entirety of it. I went to the outside set for one day, and they filmed the same scene for hours, and when I left they were still filming the same scene. It was absolutely fascinating how they did it. They filmed from every angle with multiple cameras. They’d have the same actor repeat the same line a hundred times just to capture a different detail of their face from a different angle from multiple cameras.
    2. The CW has the weirdest rules. For starters, actors could say any cuss word known to mankind, but they aren’t allowed to say the Lord’s name in vein. Also, actors aren’t allowed to show side boob in the shows. At all. So, basically the dresses lots of actresses wear at movie premiers would not be allowed on any of the tv shows from The CW we know and love.
    3. They usually don’t rehearse. Apparently they get their lines, have fifteen minutes of their own time to figure it out, and then get in front of a camera. That’s a part of the reason why there are so many bloopers, and so many retakes of several scenes. Their rehearsal is the filming.
    4. The camera makes people look bigger than they actually are. Not fatter, just bigger. When I met the actors, they were so much smaller than I expected, because they were a fourth of the size of what they look like on screen. They weren’t short or tall specifically, just tiny. It was definitely not what I expected.

I’m pretty sure that I learned a lot more things from that trip that I couldn’t have ever learned inside of a classroom, but that’s what I remember off the top of my head.

Nostalgia

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I miss waking up early on Saturday mornings to watch my favorite cartoons.

Now I struggle to wake myself up, even in the afternoon.

I miss wearing zebra print leggings under neon pink skirts and Hannah Montana shirts to top it off.

Now the worries about people judging the dirt at the bottom of my shoes to the fabric of my cardigan consume me to the point of anxiety.

I miss being excited about Christmas. I miss waking up early and running out of my bedroom in my pajamas to sit around the Christmas tree and open gifts. I miss making cookies for a Santa I once believed in.

Now I know his existence was a mere tale.

Now Christmas itself is a mere tale to me.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

I miss believing. I miss believing in fairies and elves, and having adults feed me those tales to keep my imagination strong.

I miss dancing around the room like no one was watching. I miss dancing to music that actually had a meaning.

Now, all I hear is deafening dubstep and meaningless, degrading rap. Now all I see is grinding.

I missed when I could sing at the top of my lungs, and no one would say I was bad even though we all knew I was.

I miss when the most dramatic thing at school was two seven year olds holding hands under a desk, not finding out drugs were killing your best friends.

I miss being young. When I’d see celebrities on big screens and wish to be like them one day. Now I know who they really are, all their messed up scandals and drunken photos taken by paparazzi.

I guess what I miss most is being a child. I don’t miss my childhood, but I miss when I was young. When I wasn’t stressed about school, when the biggest worry of my life was if Miley was going to get with Jesse or Jake, and when I could always be happy.

Dear My Long Lost Mother

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Dear Mother,

The memory of you fades more and more each day I grow older.

What I remember is the crashing waves against the sandy coast lines of Malibu.

The wind blowing into my hair from the rolled down windows.

The blinding sun shimmering in my eyes, and I’d squint hoping it’d go away, unaware of how I’d long for the feeling again in the near future.

The bright blue sky in the distance.

The cheeseburgers that somehow always tasted better near the ocean

The laughter in my heart, and my squeaking voice as I’d sing off key to my favorite Abba songs with you and Rachel.

There wasn’t a care in a world during those moments, but they never lasted long anyways.

I remembered the endless nights just as clearly as the endless days.

The hours of screaming. The hours of crying.

The secondhand cigarette smoke and uncleaned bedrooms.

The weekends moving from your place to dad’s.

Child support money being gambled away on lottery tickets, and gas money for late night drives when I’d rather be sleeping.

One day I was pulled out of school early. I said goodbye to my friends, to my crush, and to my teacher, unaware that I’d never see them again.

Unaware that I’d never step into a school building again until fifth grade.

Unaware that I’d never live the life I longed to have until you weren’t there to experience it with me.

I never said goodbye. May 14th you made a promise to get better, but you never kept that promise for me or my sister. You left me, and never came back. Sometimes I see you in the crows that’d never leave me alone, and they’ve always annoyed me, but I’d take their beauty for granted because I never knew what it meant.

I blame you for leaving me. I blame you for worrying about the relationships in your life that constantly broke your fragile heart more than your own daughters who loved you more.

Photo Credit: Tumblr

I hate you for never being the mother I always wanted to have.

I was ten years old. I’ll never have a mother to help do my hair for my senior prom. Instead, you chopped it off to my ears when I was nine, and left a curse on me so it’d never grow back.

You left me.

I’d never have a mom to meet my first boyfriend, to move me into college, to watch me go to law school and take on the world I always craved to explore. I have aunts, but is that really the same?

It’s been six years. All you are to me is a faint memory. A small memory, similar to a memory of passing smoke in the air. The same smoke that’d leave your lips. The same smoke from a habit you never really broke.

But you, my mother, are everything I loved and hated at the same time.

You are the sound of my favorite band, and the warmth I felt when I finally hugged them for the first time. You are the stars in the galaxy; the ones I don’t look at enough, but I know they’re always there. You’re the scent of oceans on a summer day, and the sweetness of my favorite cookies.

But you’re also the sound of terrifying police sirens coming to get me when I know I’m safe in my bed. The vision of snarling fangs glowing from a beast growling under their breath. The thought of betrayal; when those I love most don’t love me back, but you did.

At least I thought you did. You’ve told me so many times, but did I believe you? I always wanted to, but love is such a frightening concept to me that I can’t recognize even when it’s right in front of me. I can’t appreciate it like other people do when they love their own family, boyfriends, or best friends.

You’ve made me into who I am today. You’ve lit the match that sparked the fire in my soul. You made me appreciate music. You made me curious about the world. You gave me happiness in the smallest ways even when we didn’t have much.

But you also ruined me. You isolated me from the world, and when I returned to it I was fearful. It took me so long to learn how to communicate again, how to express myself, and even then I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the same, fiery spirit I had when I was a kid full of happiness and innocence. You made me closed off, and I might never forgive you for it. I can never fully place my trust into someone else’s hands, because it’s already been destroyed by yours.

But I thank you, Mother. You gave me life, though a part of it died with you.

But even then, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Do I miss you? No. Do I miss the thought of what you could’ve been? The thought of having a mother to watch me grow up? I miss that everyday.

So, Mom, I hope you’re happy up in Heaven. I never really believed in God, but I know you did, and I hope you’re happy there if that’s where you wished to be. Because after all the pain, the sadness, the tragedies, and heartbreaks you’ve been through, all I wish for you is happiness.

Love, Jaclyn.

Sonder

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7.6 billion people

195 countries

7.6 billion stories told from different perspectives

from different eyes

in different worlds

in different lives

Photo Credit: Twitter

one mother is crying as she carries her newborn baby in her arms

another is crying while her own mother takes her last breath on her death bed

one daughter is being walked down the aisle by her father on her wedding day

another is taking her first steps

7.6 billion people on this Earth

and every single one is experiencing life

experiencing it in a completely different way than another

one is preparing for the winter olympics

another is writing songs in the comfort of their bedroom

illuminated by the fairy lights scattered across the ceilings of their bedroom

7.6 billion people

scattered down the trafficked streets of New York City

one rushing to make the subway on time

Photo Credit: Amazon UK

another rushing to their job interview

another struggling for spare change

just to live to the next day

as people pass by

many don’t bat an eye

but occasionally

just occasionally

there’s someone who notices

someone who cares

who leaves a dollar or two

and moves on with their lives

forgetting the action a few days later

but the memory sticks to the other

some live a life of endless hardships

while others live in the comfort of their warm beds,

texting their best friends goodnight

their only worry

is the color of their prom dress

7.6 billion people

one has the whole world balancing on their shoulders

another is struggling to get a grasp with their finger tips

7.6 billion people

taking a role in several different movies

movies of life

some act as main characters in one movie

and dreaded antagonists in the other

some are mere, blurry passersby

while others are extras never truly appreciated

but make their presence known

7.6 billion people

and I am one

Photo Credit: Reformedish

standing alone in a world surrounded by people

people who are exactly like me

yet completely different at the exact same time

7.6 billion people

my whole story known to some

and others none

Things We Lost In The Fire

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I never realized how easy it is to take the things you have for granted, until they disappear into the wind like ashes from a fire. I remember playing those awkward ice breakers with people you’ll never really know, and one question that always seems to show up is: “If you could only take three things from your house in a fire, what would they be?”

I never had a definite answer. Obviously there were the essentials: passport, laptop, cellphone, and valuables, but I never imagined that one day I’d actually have to make that decision. That one day, in a panicked hurry, I’d have to scurry across my dorm room worrying about what I should bring, and being filled with regret over the things I left behind.

On December 4th, 2017, a wildfire ignited its flames outside the place I’ve called my home for the past three years, and on December 5th, it had reached the beloved campus and destroyed multiple classrooms, the dorms, and everything in its wake. On December 4th, we were told to evacuate, and we were asked to grab a backpack for one night. We were told to pack anything we absolutely couldn’t live without, but we were also told not to worry about our other stuff, the fire would pass, and everything would be okay. So, I packed what I held closest to me. I packed my polaroid pictures recalling the memories from my sophomore year. I packed a single stuffed animal: a panda I was given in second grade. I packed my All Time Low pillow, my signed posters, a UCLA shirt, my favorite leggings, and two t-shirts.

Photo Credit: Foster Huntington

But still, there were so many belongings surrendered to the flames. I lost years of memories put up on a small cork board above my wall. There held all my concert tickets, plane tickets, medals, and setlists from concerts I had caught in the crowd. I had lost all my riding ribbons I had won in the last couple of years. I’ve lost tour t shirts, my guitar, articles of clothing which held little bits of my personality in each thread, and class notes I’ve worked on hours into the night just so I could have a good grade the next day. They weren’t the most expensive items in my life, but they were the ones that were tokens of moments in my life that I cherished, or the moments that defined me. They were the things lost in the fire that I regret leaving behind the most. I guess if I could go back in time and grab a few more things, I’d make sure they reached my bag first.

While mourning this fire, my family constantly tried reassuring me that everything was replaceable, but then they’d ask me what I missed most, and what I missed most wasn’t what was replaceable. However, despite the hard process, I come to realize that those small items I’ve lost are still there, but in the form of memories that will stay in my head forever, for the rest of my life. Someday, after all the debris descends into the ground, and the years pass, I will have new tokens from new memories to hang up above my bed, and the tragedies from this fire will soon become a distant memory, only serving reminders through the objects I saved from it.

Dark Lights

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There once used to be so much brightness in my life

So much light

The kind of light that shows itself through the floaty leaves flowing in the autumn breeze

The sunlight that glistens against the piercing blue, salty ocean on a summer day

The light that’d peek through my bedroom window followed by the harmonies of birds chirping to wake me up on a spring morning

But light is just a false perception of brightness the world wants you to imagine

There’s so much darker light

The neon pink and blue luminescent lights brightening up a pitch black dance floor

Which eventually turn hazy to the human eye when one too many drinks have been consumed

The artificial light radiating off my desktop lamp

Keeping me up at inhumane hours of the night

The foggy bright city lights

Photo Credit: walldevil.com

Dimmed by pollution

But one night as I was on a journey from one blurred street light to another

Across the horizon, a car sped out of the tunnel right into my point of vision

And just as my vision was blinded by a piercing yellow light

The rest of the world faded black.

A Project For Disaster

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I’m no fashion designer. In fact I’ve never sewn a piece of clothing in my life, but I feel like I know what fashion is when I see it. I know fashion is supposed to be a statement of art, a piece of someone’s mind artistically constructed into something wearable, but sometimes I wonder how pieces of fabric are hideously sewn together, given a ridiculously high price because of its brand, and called fashion.

“Project Runway” is an amazing TV show which many talented and aspiring fashion designers enter in hopes of getting a spot in New York Fashion Week. I always found it incredible how people were able to construct amazing clothes under extreme pressure in, sometimes, just one day, especially in the unconventional challenges where the designers aren’t even allowed to use fabric.

“Project Runway” has always been my favorite TV show. I would go visit my aunt and curl up in the living room together and binge episode after episode, debating over who’s going to be the winner or who’s going to be out, eventually becoming a tradition during my visits. However, over the years the show has started to disappoint me. That isn’t to say that they aren’t amazing designers, but I feel like sometimes the winners are usually based off of likability versus actual raw talent.

Photo Credit: MMC News

I haven’t watched all of the most recent season, but I did see spoilers from the finale and I was not impressed… at all. The designers had weeks to come up with a fashion line, and the clothes they managed to make in one day were much more impressive than the ones they brought to the runway. The silhouettes of each piece were inexistent and bland, the color schemes were simple, and overall it just wasn’t nearly as mind blowing as the runway pieces from previous years. If I were a judge, I would’ve sent them all home, but I guess there has to be a winner, right?

If you need a good laugh, and want to see more of the most ridiculous “Project Runway” looks, click here

I’m Sure As Hell The Happiest I’ve Ever Been

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I never really knew what true happiness was until July 7th, 2017. Sure, I’ve been happy before. I smile, I laugh, but never have I experienced a day where pure happiness radiated through the whole room and it was so contagious that it made me happy also. I’ve never genuinely and truly experienced happiness without something in the back of my head keeping me upset, but July 7th was a different night. Ironically, the room full of these positive souls are also people dealing with their own battles every day, including myself. I may not know what those battles were for them, but everyone left those worries outside the room and didn’t let it affect them for the rest of the night.

It’s not what made this the happiest night of my life, but who made it the best night I’ve ever experienced. I got to meet my favorite band, All Time Low, for the first time ever. I remember when I got the email saying that I was selected to be one of the thirty people to meet them for free. My hands were shaking with excitement. I can’t even remember if I started crying, but if I did they were probably tears of happiness.

I obsess over lots of things. Pretty much the only things I ever talk about are every single TV show on the planet, how Jack Dawson should’ve lived, and All Time Low. So, when I had the opportunity to stand center barricade in front of my favorite band belting out the lyrics to my favorite songs while surrounded by the most amazing people, I was truly content.

The image of meeting All Time Low is still clear in my head. Taking my first steps towards them, Jack Barakat, my favorite band member, was already walking towards me with arms wide open before pulling me into a bear hug. Every single one of them did this. They didn’t have to, but they do anyways.

Photo Credit: Live Nation

They meet hundreds of fans every day, yet when I went into that room it seemed like I was the only one they knew, and obviously that’s not true, but they had this crazy ability to make every single fan feel like they were singing to them, talking to them, or looking at them.

I’ve never seen a band care so much for their fans. At my concert, they stopped their set twice because they were worried about these girls who passed out in the middle of the crowd. Afterwards, they made everyone clear their path to get these girls out safely. They invite their fans up on stage to dance and sing with them at every concert. They created a whole music video Skyping their fans and thanking them for being the reason for their success, though the fans were really thanking the band for caring enough to have a personal conversation with their fans. The song itself , Missing You, was dedicated to every single one of their fans begging for them to stay alive, and it’s still one of the most emotional songs I know to this day.

It’s not just the band, but it’s the community the band has made that is so amazing. I’m not outgoing, at all, but while I was standing in line to meet them, I ended up talking randomly to these two girls. I knew nothing about them, but by the end of the night we were talking about our pasts and our passions after already standing next to each other at the barricade singing at the top of our lungs to Therapy even though everyone was crying on each other at that point. I still keep in contact with them, and I still talk to the girls I met all the way in 2015 through twitter talking about this band.

To this day, July 7th was still the best day of my life.

To this day, since 5th grade, All Time Low has always been my favorite band.

To this day, from watching their cringe worthy yet hilarious interviews and videos from 2005 to their extremely inappropriate jokes they make on concert, they have never failed to make me laugh my ass off.

To this day, I still listen to their songs whenever I have a bad day, and they still manage to make me smile like I did that night.

Photo Credit: The Aquarian Weekly

The Deadly Truth About Love

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I’m not necessarily a person who trusts easily. It takes me a long time to open up to someone, to let them know what goes through my mind or what makes me tick, what makes me happy or sad. But somehow, I manage to put all my trust into a creature who could kill me if they truly wanted to.

I don’t consider myself a daredevil. In fact, I have irrational fears of even the smallest spiders in my room. People question how I manage to be brave enough to get on a 1500 pound horse and ride around an arena galloping over jumps with no anxiety, and honestly I don’t know. The sport is dangerous. Just last year, my roommate had broken her back falling off a horse, and I’ve been close to falling onto a boulder when my horse bucked me out of the dressage arena.

Even then, this didn’t phase me at all. I brushed off the dust, laughed it off, and got back on with no problems. My trust with my horse was still secure even though my luck could’ve been way worse.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

For the past year, since my back surgery, I was constantly warned that one wrong fall would potentially break my back and leave me hospitalized for weeks with the chance I wouldn’t be allowed to ride for a long time.

But I still took the risk, and it’s because my love for the sport was stronger than my fear of pain and injury. Every day I still ride, and every day the fact that horseback riding is considered one of the most dangerous sports in the world barely passes through my mind as I work with my horse.

But that’s the thing about anything everyone loves. Everything is deadly to us in some way and form, and that same exact thing gives some of us life. So horseback riding may be dangerous, but I feel like others can agree with me when I say a rider’s love for their horse is worth devoting their time and trust into these animals despite the threat that floats through the air every day someone steps into an arena.