• Haber hecho un video oficial para uno de mis héroes musicales.
• Trabajar para una de mis disqueras favoritas, for that matter.
• Haber regresado a California y presenciar una nevada en el desierto, en mayo.
• Haber ido a escalar durante casi todo el año.
• Hacer amistad con una guía de vida más. No perder a los que ya tengo.
• Vivir el sueño y pasar un Hallowmas en Brooklyn sobreviviendo sólo con mis wits & charms.
• Bailar Heart Attack '64 con una desconocida, cubiertos en sangre y glitter, sonriendo permanentemente.
• Publicar por primera vez en mi propio país.
• Ver la mayor cantidad de bandas irreales en vivo. Conocer a personas que Benjamín del pasado jamás creería que podría conocer. Acercarme más al inner circle que siempre soñó.
• Ir a un concierto de Frank Turner acompañado de tres de las mujeres más importantes de mi vida. Que al conocerlo me dijera que le había contado la mejor historia que había escuchado en todo el día, la historia de cómo llegamos ahí.
• Haber llegado aquí.

'Cos love is free and life is cheap

As long as I've got me a place to sleep

Clothes on my back and some food to eat

I can't ask for anything more

But on the other side

My radiant lady's waiting

With a beaconing light

Shining from her open hand

Oh, on the other side

My whole life's a-waiting

In her glimmering eye

I'll be another man

the trains roll by my porch, down here where nothing can live, and i’ve been smoking too much because i am no exception. you knew that already, i think. if you want salvation, then you ought to go see a priest, because forgiveness from those that we hurt in this world never was guaranteed. i’m coming home, it’s late again, i’m high as i’ve ever been. you’re sitting up, you’re in our bed crying for a ghost again. no room could be as dark or as empty as ours is, because i’m at home but i’m not here, and i never am. i wonder how many friends roll past my house in the night? in boxcars they sleep with hearts stashed in their backpacks. they’ll make california all right. a promise from me is just a lie i ain’t told yet, so i’m ready to die but i’m not willing to watch you watch me die here in our bed. i’m lying down, i’ve been nodding out since i don’t know when. the lights are on, you’re standing up screaming at a ghost again. darling, i’m home; hell i ain’t left this house of ours in days. but i’m not here. i never am. so i just can’t stay. my darling, i’m never coming back from where i’m going. my darling, i’m never coming home. my darling, i’m never coming back from where i’m going. my darling, i’m never coming home. never coming home again.

And I drove all the way home listening to the Gaslight Anthem and thinking how I can't stop letting people down, cause I'm surely not as cool as I was back in school. 

I'm on the 101 falling asleep, I got the letters that you wrote for me. Now here I am under golden arches, car in park, teary eyed, Mcgriddle in hand. 

My mind is a slow device. I like to picture life somewhat like a Rockwell painting, but great expectations just blister the paint. And I just wanna drink chocolate milk with my lovely, I just wanna burn this apartment. I just wanna float through my life merely dreaming at any given mention of the government. 

So I drive, heavy eyed, repeating "tramps like us were born to run", but I've got no one to run with. 
And I'm cold, so I've been told that I should greet the sun and get shit done. I think I'd rather just sleep in. 

Cause we're all just twenty five words in the obituary section. And everyday is just the passing of time... I think they call this depression. I'm not lonely, just kinda overwhelmed again. Cause I'm living proof you can still sing the blues in 2015.