If we make peace, then I'll take any cards you can deal.

“Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.”
-Thomas Jefferson

Then let me begin my first chapter. My palette has been wiped clean and now, I am here with only the purpose of telling you: The reader, that I'm here. I've been called many things and I do have feelings, much as many human beings do. I can take what you can throw, but I am not what you call me.

Peace comes at a price, and I'm willing to be called every degrading thing you can summon if that means I won't have to fight with you.

I'm letting go of it all.
Watching it all unravel in the winds of time

I've made my peace, and now I'm going to breathe. You can say every hurtful thing you know to me, over the internet, and it will no longer effect me. Not that I don't care about what you have to say, but it's more like I'm tired of absorbing those negative words people throw at me.

I've made my peace,
I've made my peace,

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You should 'cuz you're just as far in,
As you'll ever be out,






P.S. You say, 'I can't wait to go to Vegas and get red of all of this,' and I know what you mean. But never would I hurt your feelings, just because I'm having a bad day. I've been having a bad week, and still, I haven't said something as shameful and degrading to you as that. Say what you will, but I've never been that cruel.

But I do wish you good luck with your new life, and your 'better things' But even Pete Wentz knows I really mean 'You're gonna blow it, kid. Big time.'

The Deal:
Here's the deal. I, Dani California, want you, people of the world, to be part of my music video standing up against labels, discrimination, and hate. I want everyone to take this one chance and use their cameras, and themselves, to help as well.

This is going to be a video to the song (Coffee's for closers) by Fall Out Boy, and will be embedded below for you to give it a listen. You don't have to like the music, but I would love to get everyone I can on this project.

What I want:
I want you, the reader, to make a short video of yourself with a label. I want that label to be on you, anywhere that's appropriate meaning anywhere that isn't your boobies, or personal parts, and cross it out. You can write it in anything you want to, as well. Take that label you wrote on your forehead, inner arm, whatever and cross it out. Put a big line through it, x it out, wipe it off, whatever. Just show that you aren't what people label you.

Make sure the video is no longer then about 1 to 1 and a half minutes long. And please, try not to use the same label as everyone else. There are so many that are never used, offensive ones like dyke, cunt, bitch, skank, ect, that I'd love to see as well.

Just take a word that everyone affiliates with you, write it on your body on camera and eliminate it.

If you read this, and still have a question, please check the F.A.Q and if your question isn't there, please email it to me. I'll get right to you.


Where to send:
Once you've destroyed that negative label and caught in on camera. Send your video to this email address (GerardLover4999@aol.com) or in a (screened)comment below with the help of Rapidshare or Megaupload, with your name and why you chose that label. No need for paragraphs, all I need is one sentence and you're done.

"Never, "for the sake of peace and quiet," deny your own experience or convictions." - Quote by Dag Hammarskjold.





p.s. For all of those who want to take a swing at it, read this monologue at the end your video, after you've eliminated the label from your life:
"Life is our choice, our colors our own and so are our words. If we don't stand up against hate, then no one will, and until that day, I will never believe in anything again."

Please note that you can take a bit longer, if you do read the monologue. You can take as long as you need. I plan on mashing all of there different types of people, these different different personalities and faces, and making something that will shake everyone's hearts.

We have one voice, one chance, one world. Let's make it count.

If you read this, and still have a question, please check the F.A.Q and if your question isn't there, please email it to me. I'll get right to you.

Today is a very curious day.

I was in my room with a dear friend, going over the vocal arrangement of a song when I heard sirens pull up in front of my house. I looked to my friend, then went to the living room to see what had happened, when a very nice policeman approached.

"Ma'am, we had reports that there was screaming coming from this residence. Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothings wrong. There wasn't any screaming, but I was singing a few minutes ago..."

"May we check the premises to make sure?"

And then my house was totally violated, and the nice policeman apologized. He told me that I probably shouldn't sing screamo, because neighbors might think I'm killing someone. Curiouser and Curiouser.

Then I went on the most magical date, which made my heart beat into my throat. I was obviously wrong about him, and I was happily proved so. Sometimes, people don't understand that I really do like to be proved wrong but, I do like to be proved wrong. Which made the small vegetarian dinner we had such a delightful experience.

"My pulse was as high on my very first date,"

The song I was covering was 'I've seen it All' by Bjork and Thom Yorke(of Radiohead), which is why I had a friend with me to help, seeing as, I can't really sing male vocals.




"I've seen it all, there is no more to see,"

It seems I have myself backed up between a wall and a large boulder.

Or, dare I say it, you have me pushed into this place. You have me moments from death, about to have the life crushed from my bones, and you decide that you're going to let me dangle. I'd gladly die for you, but I refuse to die for the games you might be playing with me.

Not once have I made myself seem like a pushover, though, I shouldn't have seemed so wound around your finger in all of it's elegance. I am truly sorry that I've made you believe that I am going to set me up and push me over, but that was for you to decide...not me.

It's funny how our conversations always end up in bad news, or maybe it's just me.

I'm someone who doesn't like to be pushed into a corner unless I'm going to overcome something, and know I will. With you, it's different. I'm pushed against this wall, feeling and hoping that I'll overcome the situation, but I hear that you think it's a failed effort. And I'd really just like to ask you, but relationships aren't built on suspicion...they're built on belief.

But I fear that this belief might end badly for me, something horrible that will make it harder to piece myself together again.

If I play the cards, if I allow myself to believe in this, then there's always the argument that 'It is better to have loved, and lost, then to have never loved at all'. But, I'd much rather watch my back and make sure that everything is for certain this time, since it seems that I find myself in this spot quite a bit lately. I can go for the small gap to freedom, or be crushed in belief, but you might not be as bad as I've been lead to think.

You're bad news, but I don't care...I like you.




( Rilo Kiley - Portions for Foxes lyrics, behind the cut )

When I told you that I loved you, it was a complete lie. I wasn't lying when I said I have feelings for you, it wasn't false of my to tell you that I truly believe that you are unbelievable; but the word "love" shows false in my statement due to situational irony.

The situation: Me and you, sitting alone on the phone at p.m, talking about how long we'll be there for each other.
The Irony: You left, you began taking drugs, and you became something I wasn't sure of anymore.

Neither of us could see it coming because, like most events in life, it was a speeding car that was blocked by misjudgment. I didn't think both of us would be hit, never-the-less as hard as we were hit. But I digress.

You said you loved me on the phone, last time we spoke, and I thought to myself. In fact, I thought about it most of the night, I lost sleep over pondering the words you chose to use on me. And yes, I lied when I said I loved you, originally....but that was because I was too young and too naive to understand what love really is.

Love is tolerating. Love is something you feel that's beyond a mere infatuation, but a whole entire admiration for someone that's so strong and so bold that you want nothing more then to sit around and watch the other person at work. You want to watch that person's every move, lock the movie in your mind, and never forget that it happened. Love is when you can take someone and inspire them as much as they inspire you, change their whole being because you've touched their soul.

Most importantly, Love is when you can sit on the phone with someone for five hours and listen to them ramble about their life on the phone, complaining and whining, and sit back with a sigh, thinking, "Wow, the way they say 'awesome' is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

Love isn't sex, money, touching, lust. Love is something that hold so much more character then that. Love is something that you can only feel when you're sure you and another person have a bond, a special bond, and know that the negative things they are doing right at that moment can be changed by saying, 'I'll make sure you stop.'

So, my dearest friend. I did lie to you, and I'm sorry. But I'm sure that one day we'll meet again, and I'll tell that I love you and mean it. Until then, I can only hope that you're keeping yourself clean and straight. I hope that every morning you look into the mirror and smile that you're still alive, and learn to cherish that. You're an amazing person and there's nothing that can ever change that...no amount of weed, cocaine, nicotine, alcohol, that can make you any less amazing.

I love you, I wish you well, and I hope that you open your eyes to the world around you one day. Open your eyes and think clearly, free of any outside substance, taking a breath in and looking up to the blue sky above you with a smile.

For now, Here comes the sun.

Right now, I'm trying to get over the ridiculous news on the television. "Oh, Swine Flu is here." And...you point is?

It's a hybrid flu that aims more towards people 25-40, and it's about 15% more deadly then the average flu. It's not like it's a fatal disease that most of us wont be able to overcome, because we could, but the media makes it seem like something so much larger then it is.

It's not as big of a risk as it's deemed to be, it's not spreading as quickly as they say it is. All it is: a quicker version of the flu that makes you hurt worse then average flu.

We're hopelessly blissful and blind

All we do is worry about things that shouldn't be worried about, we cry over things that shouldn't be cried over, and people wonder why we're such a whimpy country when it comes down to the wire. Maybe it's because we allow the media to control our lives, and I stand accused of loving the media, and squirm when they order us to.

Another song for you, something to hit you in the face and hopefully make you understand that these things are upon us because 'we're all to blame' we live in a world where we blindly follow the media, the news, and absorb their words without known fact.







p.s. Thanks to the man of the year for trying to scare the daylights out of us, causing us to cower in fear when this is not the right time for it.

We should be worried about bombs dropping on us, nuclear warfare, but we're more worried about a common virus that will eventually die out as West Nile did.

So thanks for nothing.

I'm in a delightful mood tonight.

Here I am, again, to save my own life and write how I feel to keep my mind at ease. Today, I'm in pain and filled with teenage anger and frustration. The pretty flowers, blooming outside the window, have no effect on me.

Why am I so angry? Because I try to lend a hand to people who refuse it. I make a joke, and get deemed an 'asshole' for it. I bleed, and everyone comes to bandage it up quickly, so they don't have to look at the blood that will drip.

That's what my life is, for those of you that don't know me. I speak on too many things, to people who could care less of it. My words are wasted on shallow, nonabsorbent, teenage minds that only care about themselves and nothing more. Life is a centerfold, for those types, and they're trying to be the one in the center.

Today, I've chosen to take my anger to heart and play something from my past that gets me through times like these. The icon I'm using is Brody Dalle, lead singer/guitarist of a band called The Distillers. One of the greatest bands to exist, but so very broken now.




Drain the blood, the heart is wise Oh, how I've lived by those words even to this day. Distillers, you should return and clear my mind again.



p.s. One day my words will matter to the world. One day I'll be something that revolves around my ideas, my theories, my imagination, and the world will finally understand my views. I just hope it isn't too late by that time....

Curious enough, today I am in a delightfully good mood for the first time in a while. It might be a mix of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, good coffee, lovely weather and real love. I love a good synthesizer, Japanese shouting, and a woman in a studded jacket. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are back, and bringing up the heat another notch.

My thoughts are joyful, enjoyable, and completely silent all at once. It's not something I get too often, since I think about almost everything that passes me by, but today is a nice change.

It's been almost a year since I've had this much peace in my own mid.




p.s. I think this song was made in your image. Put your leather on....You're a zero. But the video is much more exciting then just the song. Karen O is back, my dears, and as entertaining as ever. =]

Again I see we've found ourselves meeting. It's not the first time it's happened, we seem to find each other a lot, but this time I saw you making those I want you to look at me eyes. Of coarse I was looking at you, you're hard to miss most of the time.

But the last thing I want to do is look at you and get caught in a web of things I'm not ready for. Call it selfish, but I need to focus on my life for once and not the needs of someone else. Especially you.

One day I hope you ready this, and realize that I have a mind to protect from you. I have secrets that only my best friend gets to hear, I have things in my head that will scare or shock you, I have things on my conscience that I'm not proud of. Even if you didn't mind...I do and that's never going to change. Maybe when you're more mature, thinking at an age much older then yourself, then you'll understand what I'm talking about.

Until then, I'll sit away from you and pretend it's the old days all over again.






p.s. She's a mother fucking gold digger. I wish you were smart enough to see that, but obviously you're not. You're dead set on loving this woman who only likes you for your name, not what you are. Disgusting. I hope the both of you marry off and have horribly immoral children who love to date people for their money. That's all you're worth to me, immorality, which means you're worth less then nothing.

Disgrace my image and I'll disgrace you. I know the real you, I know the version you of you that you keep a secret. Keep pushing me, sir, and you will never be looked upon in the same light again. You're not welcome in my county, or my world, any longer.

It's just past midnight and I find myself here, writing to an anonymous audience again. Sometimes it feels like I'm here for matters that don't matter, rather then being here for something that actually holds true to substance. That's my life, a work of nothing more then words laced with a brutal truth and only for my ears and eyes only.

I begin to wonder why I have this journal, and then I remember it's to keep myself sane instead of showing my words to the world. Meaningful to myself, and that's what really matters. This is a lovely little journal that I compose every so often to keep myself from going stalk-mad and loosing myself.

So that's what life is...

My icon is probably one of the most magical moments of my childhood. Alice having an un-birthday party and watching the sparkles and fireworks whizz through the air above her in awe. That's what I'd like to see, fireworks and sparkles that will leave me to gasp, rather then what the world is turning into.

The truth is, no one really cares what you have to say. I keep reminding myself that everyday...but I still continue to share my piece with the world in hope they'll get the big picture before it's too late. I guess I'm just sick in the head that way.

So sick in the head I continue to care, when I know I shouldn't. So sick in the head that I hope for a better tomorrow. So sick in the head that my mind has no trail, but the trail it wants the most at the moment I speak.




p.s. consider it just a pondering thought, but why don't you get aids from mosquitoes? They could suck a person's blood, who's been infected, and you don't get it...yet there's a transfer similar to that of re-using a needle that someone infected has used. I don't understand.

Goodnight, world.

The truth about me is that I have no ideas in my head to write about. This is a personal journal, and yet, I have no idea how to make it personal. I'm so used to being invaded, so used to writing someone else's thoughts that I'm stuck on my own. Which, I tell you, is complete bullshit. I've been playing this game far too long, and now I'm finally beginning to loose what "rationality" and "personality" I did have, replacing it with other people's personality...

Clearly something's wrong with me. Clearly I'm not bringing anything to the table that people want, which is why I've lost that glimmer I had. Maybe I should stop completely loosing myself in something before I loose myself completely

Never-the-less, I'm still working on my book. It's getting nowhere, and going nowhere fast. haha I think I need to take time out of my life and go think to myself about it...maybe reading up on Hemingway will help me with it. :/ Maybe even Bob Dylan can grow some creativity in my veins...

This is a first post, and first posts are always the hardest, right? All that aside, I'm ready to have my words and ideas disected before my eyes. C'mon world, chew me up and spit me out. I'm ready for your big, white teeth to take in what I know, only to give me a pile of scrambled nothings in return.

I'm ready, I'm ready.