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#music is a drug
honneythatsgay · 2 years
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Music is like a drug
It's addicting
It gets you high
It makes you feel the whole spectrum of emotions
It makes you spend money.
Once you start listening to music
You can never stop.
You can't focus without it.
You feel restless without it.
The more stimulating the music, the more addicting it gets.
The more the music makes you feel, the more addicting it gets.
You start with liking one song on spotify or youtube
Then, you buy records on CD or Vinyl
One more step, and you buy concert tickets
You buy merch
You connect with other fans
You get the energy going
One band isn't enough, so the other fans introduce you to similar ones
You get addicted to those ones too.
You feel high after listening to your favourite bands
When you go to a concert, the feeling only intensifies
The concerts only get you more addicted
You buy tickets to more concerts to feel that again
It's like without the music, you can't function.
It's like life without the music is unbearable.
It's like getting high, without consequences
The music gets you high, but without the hungover
You can always try something new
And the best part is, it's good for your health
So music is like a drug
It gets you high
It's addicting
It makes everything better
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ghostbotjet · 2 years
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ssaarahhh · 2 years
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locallibrarylover · 7 months
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*by live theatre i mean plays, musicals, operas, ballets, concert versions of musicals, staged readings, & things of that nature. EDIT: YES this includes amateur, local, kids, high school, & community theatre. almost every show i've seen has been local
if you want, list the names of the shows you've seen in the tags!
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bakedbeanz · 16 days
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I call it mind eraser, no chaser at all (On permanent leave of everything) Law abiding, dick riding, fun police, leave us alone (Dulling the edge of a razor blade) What does it mean when the knife and the hand are your own?
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mildlysedat3d · 3 months
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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cw: discussion of past parental death due to overdose, mention of drug use
Steve stumbled upon the article when he was helping Robin collect articles for a project for her Industry Studies course.
He didn’t think much of reading about another small time musician getting caught up with the wrong crowd, and overdosing or getting in a drunk driving accident. It seemed like a pretty common theme. It was terrible, sad, horrible, but he’d seen about 30 stories like that in the last two days and he was kind of getting numb to it all.
Until he saw the name Munson.
Until a picture of a woman with long, curly hair and Eddie’s smile stared back at him next to a headline that read: “Kentucky Country Queen Dead at 27.”
He read the article with tears in his eyes.
Elizabeth “El” Munson, a hopeful country singer and guitarist, was found dead in her home by her six year old son, Edward. The boy reportedly tried calling his father at work with no luck before finally calling his uncle, Wayne Munson.
Toxicology reports show that she overdosed on multiple illegal substances. At this time, it is believed to have been accidental and no foul play is suspected.
It has now been made clear that Elizabeth was seeking a divorce from her husband, Al Munson, but had not been successful as lawyers were unable to locate him until her funeral. Their son has been put in the care of Wayne until further notice.
Robin found him 20 minutes later, staring at the page with swollen, red eyes. She took the paper, read the article, and put it back in the files wordlessly.
“I don’t think he wants us to know,” she finally said.
She was probably right.
But Steve had grown pretty close to Eddie over the last six months, had opened up to him about his parents, his fake friends, his concussions and nightmares. Eddie had started opening up to him, too.
He thought he had, anyway.
He told him about how his mom died when he was young and his dad was awful so he moved in with Wayne. He told him about how his dad appeared every couple years looking for money or a place to stay and Wayne always turned him away.
But he never really talked about his mom, always said he barely remembered her.
Did he know what happened?
——
Steve asked Wayne the next morning.
He’d come by to pick Eddie up for a day with the kids, but Eddie hadn’t set his alarm and was still asleep.
Perfect opportunity to find out more.
“So. Eddie’s mom.”
Wayne tensed over his plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He didn’t look up, just took another bite of food.
“Does he know how she died?”
“Do you?”
“Newspaper said overdose,” Steve tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Says Eddie found her.”
“Trauma messes with your memory.”
It was final, a statement that left Steve with more questions, but a certainty that he’d get no answers.
“Yeah.” He gulped. “I’ve heard.”
——
Steve doesn’t bring it up to Eddie for a while.
He figured Wayne’s reaction said a lot about what Eddie knew or would be willing to share.
But they were a little high and alone and Eddie’s hand was warm in his and his filter was broken.
“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find your mom.”
The air around them was thick. The silence was deafening.
“Me too.”
Eddie’s voice was quiet, nothing like his usual playful tone.
Steve immediately wanted to put this conversation in reverse, pretend his curiosity didn’t matter.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie moved closer to Steve, his arm a constant pressure against Steve’s. His head leaned against Steve’s shoulder.
“Wayne doesn’t know I know how she died. He doesn’t know I know my dad gave her bad drugs, convinced her all the up and coming musicians were doing a new strain of heroin. She’d kicked him out of the house,” Eddie’s breath caught. “She shouldn’t have let him come back that day. I heard them arguing before I left for school. She told him she was finding a manager and recording an album and that she was divorcing him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was bad.”
“Eds, you don’t have to tell me.”
“I know, Stevie. But you know everything else.” Eddie’s face turned until his nose and mouth were pressed against Steve’s arm. “I went to school. Didn’t think about it. Figured my dad would be gone when I got home and might come back in a few days once they cooled off. But when I got home, he was gone and my mom’s bedroom door was closed. And I opened it and there she was.”
Steve turned so he was face to face with Eddie, cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb along his cheek in encouragement.
“I don’t even know why I tried calling the store first. I didn’t even know if he still worked there. But then I called Wayne and it’s like he just knew.” Eddie’s eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t think he’d ever gotten to our house so quick.”
“Did he know all this?”
“He knew enough. I stayed with him and then my dad gave up his rights. Lied to the counselor about what I knew so Wayne wouldn’t freak. Kept it up for a while,” Eddie let out a small exhale that slightly resembled a laugh. “I read the article about eight years ago. A kid in my class made a joke about me being an orphan because of the drug problem in America as if he even knew what that meant and I decided to see what the newspaper reported.”
“Do you play because of her?” Steve asked.
Eddie blinked back at him.
“I play for a lot of reasons. But I started because of her, yeah,” he whispers. “You’re the first person to ask me that instead of give me that look of pity.”
“I’m sad about how it happened, but giving you pity doesn’t change it. I’d rather hear how it changed you,” Steve whispered back.
They were close, legs intertwined, hands touching bare skin under shirts and on faces and necks.
“It changed everything for me. Wayne packed us up and moved us here as soon as he legally could. Probably for the best. Well,” Eddie gave a small smile. “Definitely for the best. Wouldn’t be here with you if he hadn’t.”
“Do you ever go back?” Steve did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.
“Her birthday every year. She’s got a nice spot near her mom.” Eddie bit his lip. “It’s actually coming up in a couple weeks. Maybe you could come with me?”
“Me? Are you sure?”
Eddie nodded. “If it doesn’t weird you out that I talk to her. I like to give her updates on my life, Wayne’s life, music. Think she’d find it quite funny that I bring the guy I’ve had a crush on for two years.”
It takes a minute for the words to sink in.
“Two years?” Steve’s lips curled up into a smile. “I hope I live up to expectations.”
“I think she’d like you. She’d definitely make fun of me for having a boyfriend who wears polos though.”
“Is that how you’d introduce me?”
“If you’re okay with it.” Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I know we haven’t talked about what we-“
Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s, nearly knocking their noses together painfully in the process.
After the initial shock, they both relaxed into the kiss.
“I’d love to go. As your boyfriend,” Steve said after pulling away for air. “What was her favorite flower?”
“Gardenias. Always wore perfume that smelled like it. Why?”
“Because I have to impress her, right?”
“You realize she’s not gonna actually see or hear you? She’s definitely dead.”
Steve snorted. “I know. But she can still have nice things. Maybe us bringing her nice things in death is a way to apologize for the not nice things she had in life.”
“You’re a pretty incredible boyfriend, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the tip of his nose. “And you now know more than Wayne, so it’s time for a pinky promise.”
Steve giggled before holding up his pinky. “I swear I won’t tell Wayne anything.”
“And you’ll kiss me whenever I want…”
“That’s a guarantee.”
“And you’ll let me win at Go Fish…”
“Not a chance, Eds.”
Eddie laughed. “Worth a try.”
Steve curled his pinky against Eddie’s. “So do you think she’d like me?”
“Oh. Oh god. She’d love you. You’re exactly who she’d want for me,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve flipped his hair back confidently. “And she’d braid your hair every night while you gossiped and sipped tea.”
“And what would you do?”
“Probably just soak it in. Appreciate having her and you around. You’ll just have to gossip with Wayne.”
“Wayne doesn’t strike me as-“
“Oh, he’s got you fooled! He’s a worse gossip than the ladies at the hair salon. Just ask him about the mailbox at the end of the road sometime. Make sure you’ve got an hour to spare.”
“Really?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “Is he home now?”
Eddie pulled Steve forward until he was flush against his front. “No and I have much better plans than gossiping with my uncle.”
“Oh?” Steve’s brow raised.
“It involves my bed and handcuffs. You in?”
“Hopefully you’re in.”
“God, you’re ridiculous. C’mon, now I’m even harder from your stupid flirting,” Eddie sat up and tugged until Steve followed. “Can’t believe this is how my night’s going.”
“Believe it, baby.”
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regulusblqck123 · 26 days
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When I hear someone mention France I automatically think Regulus Black and Timothée Chalamet.
Regulus: why am I thought of when people mention France?
James: maybe cuz you speak French and have French roots.
Regulus: that doesn’t mean I am all of France!
James: you’re literally packing right now to go to France.
Regulus: I need to buy books in French.
James: why?
Regulus: cuz I need to read to my cat in French. No, James! All my favourite composers wrote their thoughts in French and I can only get the original versions of their books in France.
James: I thought you were going cuz you wanted croissants and baguettes.
Regulus: those to.
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emotional-emotion · 1 year
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Seinfeld (1989 - 1998) 6.23 The Face Painter
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ang3linebn · 4 months
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mizzmellymoo · 2 years
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ghostbotjet · 2 years
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I'm not a zombie but I feel like one <33
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ssaarahhh · 2 years
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imagine being high off your ass in 1964 and turning the radio on and you hear house of the rising sun by the animals for the first time. my soul would leave my body id fucking die
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cainavey · 2 years
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Tidal Music.
ONE
https://t.co/Ev7t7wUUz3
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Tidal🍏
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