iTunes is the world's easiest way to organize and add to your digital media collection.Click I Have iTunes to open it now. iTunes for Mac + PC Young & Stupid (feat. View More by This Artist I don't support "TRAVIS MILLS" I support the old "T.MILLS" his old music is the REAL HIM. Dont support his new music. He'll do anything for fame.I miss the old Travis who actually cared about his fans. I'm dying literally 💖💖💖💖✨👏🙌 I love this song! Travis has come a long way and his music keeps getting better! Birn: April 12, 1989 in Riverside, CAGenre: ReferenceYears Active: '00s, '10sFull Bio Top Albums and Songs by Travis Mills Nasteners Also Bought T.℗ 2015 Republic Records a division of UMG Recordings Inc & Lava Music LLC Cuavie McCoyG-EazyGym Class HeroesJez DiorIggy AzaleaSammy AdamsAsher RothHoodie AllenB.o.BCobra Starship Bad Things - Single Machine Gun Kelly & Camila Cabello Born: 22 April 1990 in Houston, TXGenre: Hip-Hop/RapYears Active: '10sFull Bio

Top Albums and Songs by Machine Gun Kelly , , ℗ 2016 Bad Boy/Interscope Records G-EazyYelawolfHoodie AllenWitt LowryEminemTwistaRoyce da 5'9"MAC MILLER 21-year-old Travis Tatum Mills, better known as T. Mills, is a hybrid artist from Riverside, CA. His influences range from Wu Tang Clan to Blink-182; Bone Thugz and Harmony to The Dream; Rusko to Wiz Khalifa. In 2010 Mills released an EP, and a full length album titled, “Ready, Fire, Aim!”, on Uprising Records. He also performed on the Warped Tour, as well as Bamboozle. He recently sold out his first headlining show at The Troubadour in Los Angeles, and plans to release a mixtape in early June featuring pro...I ran a straightener through my tangled hair and adjusted my shirt as I pulled on a purple denim skirt. Tying the laces of my low-top white converse, I looked in the mirror. My pink eyeshadow had smudged with the dark-black eyeliner below it, making me look like I had spent the afternoon sampling Sephora’s rattiest selections.

This, I thought, I can work with.akatsuki hoodie for sale For our first party of the school year, my housemates and I suggested people arrive with their “own snacks, attitude problems, and drinks. diamond supply co shirts zumiezPreferably the sort of hard alcohol you’d steal from your parents’ liquor cabinet in 2008.” 1817 hoodieThe theme: teen angst. chicago bulls hoodie swagI arranged the thirty racks of Pabst Blue Ribbon, reapplied mascara and blasted Drops of Jupiter from my speakers, wondering who would show that night and when and if we had enough alcohol and if maybe I should change my shoes. Four hours later, I was shaking a cop’s hand.

“Great playlist, but the party’s over,” he said. Fully grown college students who two minutes ago had been scream-singing “A Thousand Miles” filed out of the house hurriedly. I drifted to sleep feeling like I had just arrived home from my first middle school dance. I have spent my lifetime growing out of things. I stopped listening to A*Teens when my brother introduced me to Smash Mouth. Then came Death Cab for Cutie — I would sit paralyzed as the words of “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” washed over me, describing perfectly the avalanche of emotion I felt sitting at my family’s desktop Dell computer in the laundry room waiting for “darkness14” to message me back on AIM. Blink-182 lyrics wandered through my head as I learned basic algebra. I laid on my bedroom floor in a hoodie and white and black checkered Vans listening to Kanye West’s 808s & Heartbreak on my light blue boombox. The boombox broke right around the time I got a laptop. At this point, my scratched NOW CDs had also made their way to the trash.

I got an iTunes account and would spend the $20 dollar gift cards I amassed during the holidays to buy Bon Iver albums. Now, I know to turn my Spotify account to “private” when I want to listen to Taylor Swift. My teen angst — technically behind me, at 20 years old — guided my most formative, painfully funny experiences growing up. When I was 13, I plucked my curly, overly illustrious eyebrows into thin, spiky lines that stood out painfully on my round face. I cried for days on end after a boy I’d kissed once in eighth grade stopped talking to me because I would “only give him side hugs.” My junior year of high school — when we should’ve known better — my friends and I paraded throughout campus in fits of hysteria and passion, complaining and crying because we felt owed something and glowering because we wanted nothing. Except for, maybe, good grades and our parents to let us stay out past midnight and boys who wouldn’t leave us to go to college. Things, for the most part, have mellowed.

My now 20-something friends have a little more life experience and slightly greater control of their emotions. We’re expected, as new adults, to hold ourselves together in public, not to throw tantrums or to descend into madness when we lose something or forget to eat lunch. I’m happy I no longer feel like crying at random or yelling at my mom when she suggests that maybe I should go to sleep instead of staying up until 4 a.m. to finish an assignment. I woke up the morning after the party and descended the staircase of my new, adult home. I poured Cheerios into a ceramic cereal bowl, wiping beer and sticky spots off the counters. I floated on a cloud of teenage emotion for the week following, playing “Stacy’s Mom” as I walked to Wheeler Hall. I went heavy on the eyeliner. Teen angst, I understand, can’t hold onto us forever. We are necessarily and thankfully freed from its grips at some point on the path to adulthood. And while this is a good thing, I just think, occasionally, we’d all be better off if SAE would play Sum 41 at parties.