every day i think about how much i'm still your boy breaks down the dichotomy of you either have to be all good and never do bad things or you're Evil

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every day i think about how much i'm still your boy breaks down the dichotomy of you either have to be all good and never do bad things or you're Evil
oh to be the person on the plane sitting next to luke hemmings as he wrote the verse of i'm still your boy of all things
songs about places: 5sos version
pick one
san francisco
woke up in japan
red desert
fly away
saigon
california holds her breath
easy for you to say
money
english love affair
outer space/carry on
i'm still your boy
lie to me
thinking about i'm still your boy and how from the very start i thought this will be one that grows on me, even if i didn't fall in love with it on the first listen
thinking about how every line adds insecurities to the emotional soundscape of the song, reminding me of chords where you add one note and then the next but they're sustained so each one just keeps playing while the next one joins its sound
sat in the driveway (tired from a drive i'm not sure i should've done) but i can't go in (worrying about seeing someone inside the house) the green fence is fading (it's been so long since i was last/first here) it's sinking in (yeah all of this now i'm questioning what am i doing) wish i was younger (regret, fear of getting older) so i knew the end (fear of uncertainty and bad endings, actually, a terror something i need so badly could go wrong) i'd move to orlando and i'd be your friend (daydreaming about a past that never existed but it suits my fantasy even though there never was a possibility) tore you apart to put me back again (regret, why can't i just exist without hurting people) time's such a bastard and I'm wearing thin (frustration) still in chicago with things that i miss (fragments of me i've left everywhere and i'm spiralling thinking of the good and bad of each place) you can't have tequila without half a gram (remembering my own addictive tendencies and how when i see it in my loved ones i get worried, when i see it in myself i feel ashamed)
it was alright til i got angry. made a fist hole shape in the wall. regret. shame on myself for feeling like that. ruining it. self blame
but with everything that's built up til this point it's no wonder really, no wonder the noise became so loud and so layered in my head that i had to go and punch a wall? i can feel it, my nervous system slowly activating, everything stacking up, i can feel it, not knowing, not understanding what was coming thinking if i could push it down i could maybe overpower it but instead i escape through substances or i go and punch a wall hard enough to break it. you've seen me do both.
i'm still your boy. it's all i can say in the haze while i'm losing my mind. it doesn't fix it.
take it all apart. i want it, miss it, need it, so bad. processing it all, processing me and oh god why am i like this why do i have to ruin everything the minute i think i'm doing alright, doing well. the aftermath of it is now. don't know what's worse, i can't go back. but my nervous system won't relax and i don't understand that yet. don't understand it. don't understand why. all i know is i can't be without you i'd fall in the void. i can't dance around it i've gotta be yours. it's all focused in on that one person. the one lifeline i have so i can breathe through all this self blame and shame and regret that's adding to the pile of everything in my head.
more notes. it's getting ugly, we've used up just about every element of the scale and some notes that aren't even notes but actually out of tune sounds in between the twelve notes on the chromatic scale. (luckily isyb sounds don't actually do this, or we'd hate it). it's torture. of course i'm going to latch onto whatever relief i can find in it. and of course i'm not gonna have the capacity to look very far.
i'm still in orlando or chicago or sydney or wherever really, spread thin and dissociated between memories of places where i've been or my loved one has been, we're blurring together in my brain, spread thin. time is all at once and not at all. can't have tequila without half a gram.
it was alright before i got empty, made a mess of the room in your heart. at least that's what i convince myself. in reality it was messy a lot earlier but i don't realise that i don't go from 0-100 in a moment. i'd been at 99 for so long i just got used to it. but if i wasn't unable to think i'd know. i'd know what i see in the aftermath heavy with guilt. this has happened a thousand times.
i'm still your boy. i remember the good and i want to live in it. do you feel the same way too? don't answer that.
i want it so bad i want it so bad i want it so bad
that's all i know. whether it's addiction to substances or people, a specific person, or maybe it's a good thing, some relief from the noises in my head, this stack of notes or insecurities that never stopped, all i know is it feels right, feels cathartic, the idea of it really, as if this is how it was always meant to be when in fact all i'm asking is for something to bring me back from the very edge of my tolerance down to something that's still very painful but so, so much better because it feels lighter and feels like i can just maybe sustain it. a 95 maybe instead of 99 or 100. a few less sounds, an actual chord with harmonies that aren't fully drowned out. luckily we've got the rest of the album to do this.
every other US city: I still hate chicago, with things that I miss (railway connections to the rest of the country)
oh the many different variations of the chicago line i have found
adding orlando and chicago to the 5sos geography bingo