Hello World!

October 10, 2010
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Hello world! My name is Wyatt D’Emilia. I’m a freshman at Carnegie Mellon, and I’m here to offer my opinion on all things musical. Am I qualified? Not really. I mean, I listen to music just as much as the next guy, I like to sing, and I attempt to write songs of my own (try saying that without sounding pretentious…or typing that…whatever). Anyway, I hope that people will read this and find cheap clomid it interesting enough to comment on.  It’s strongly encouraged, as are trolls.

This first post will be my way of introducing myself to you, the “bloggee”.  My favorite album–I’ll remind you that trolls are strongly encouraged, but seriously, just calling it “emo” is rather juvenile–is Green Day’s “American Idiot”.  Now, if you will, allow me to explicate.  The album shows the band at a crossroads.  After over 13 years and 6 albums of punk apathy and songs about weed and sitting around–with the exception of 2000′s “Warning”, a well-received but only marginally successful tonal shift–the band came out of left field (cliché) with “American Idiot”, a rock opera of political anger and two 9-minute opuses: “Jesus of Suburbia” and “Homecoming”.  One day they’ll play those two back-to-back. Just you wait.

Now if I can attempt to analyze myself, it caught me at a similar crossroads, a specific day in fact: December 28, 2004.  That day took the happy little world in which I lived and punched it repeatedly in and around the head, neck, and face.  My grandmother, after three years battling cancer, died surrounded by her family.  Of course, I wasn’t there when it happened; my parents had sent me to stay at my cousins’ house where I could attempt to ignore what was slowly but surely happening.  I never went into her room to look at her.  Seeing her open door was enough for me.  As I hugged my mother, she gave me the news I had been equally dreading: after 12 years living in Richmond, Virginia (RVA 4ever!, 2 or 3 people will love that shout-out), my family was moving to Haddonfield, New Jersey.  I had spent my entire life building a foundation on which I could always rely: one of family, friends, and a home, and in 20 minutes it all ended.

Green Day saved me (cliché – sometimes they’re the only way to say what you mean). My aunt gave me the CD as a Christmas present, and it was in those songs where I found recovery. Billie Joe Armstrong sang in emotional hyperbole and the music was a steady, 57-minute-long tirade that allowed me to escape my world, at least for long enough to get used to the changes occurring around me. Every song filled me with the most positive rage, the exact sort of emotional escape I needed. Green Day worked better than any anti-depressant ever could.

To keep a long story short, “American Idiot” helped to instill in me a new foundation, one in which music was an extension of who I was–and am–as a person. If I were to consider myself qualified to write about music, it would be because I believe that music surpasses eyes as a true window to the soul (a cliché–reworked!).  So, if you like what you see here, or if you’re just in the mood for a quality source to troll, I’ll see you on the internet!

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