In this war that is life there are many little battles. Your parents and family are the people that trained you to fight. Your teachers gave you your arsenal. You friends are those that stand by your side to fight when you give the cry: Some may stand by you taking blow by blow for you, some may unleash arsenals of their own in the battle for you, some medics to mend your wounds, and yet others will stay back in the reserves.

Your closest friends and loves will do all of these for you and more.

This town, or should I say it's greater mass, always tries to be something different, something it's not by copying others that made it work, but not in their entirety only in the parts they like, which doesn't really work always.

I hate the fact that it seems to have rubbed off on a lot of the people in this town.

This is why I hang onto those people I find who are just them regardless.

I need to treasure what I haven while I have it, for Auld Lang Syne.

When I hear the right song under the right situation and its strings of notes and lyrics make chills run through me, make my face seize its motion and brings me to the brink of tearing, that at that moment that truely is music.