The blood pounded in his ears as the drumsticks crashed into the snare drum and moved along hit the cymbals a couple times. This was it. This was what had been missing for the past ten years. This rush. This feeling. His dream. It was now that he could find himself again. The screaming fans…the air in his lungs, this was a new beginning.
This smiling face, do they really by it? The nervous laughter, what do I have to be nervous about? Twenty years in the spotlight, half my life, it isn’t nervousness it’s just the mask I wear. So much is expected from me, but I expect even more from myself, do they not understand that? No, of course they don’t, I wear my mask well. I don’t let them see the real pain underneath it. So I’ll continue on this way, act as expected and try to give back to the life that has consumed me. However…what if the mask cracked?
When had it become this way? When had his life become his work? It didn’t used to be this way…sure he was always the perfectionist when it came to recording, concerts; everything had to be perfect for X. But it changed, it become more…maybe less? He couldn’t sleep, so he worked…he couldn’t get a song to sound right, so he added another project. This was everything to him now. Work, focus, make it perfect. For them. For himself. With this he could escape.
I’ve decided. I guess I should be more specific………. I’ve decided what the best taste in the world is. I know, not that big of a deal, but I’ve decided none-the-less. It isn’t something you’d expect…well unless you did….but alright, here it is!
Blue Skittles.
No seriously…my assistant brought me a package of them while I was recording, The blue ones taste the best! I saved them for last……..they were very good, I have very nice people working with me.
I don't really have 'parents' anymore, I'm not sure I ever really did. When my father was alive he always much too busy to pay me much attention, other then to insist I learn the Piano, I wished I'd discovered the Drums before...
My Mother still stays in contact, she's sweet, but always sad, I think a large part of her died with my Father.
If only he'd talked to us, maybe, just maybe we could have shown him the way…
Comments 14
The blood pounded in his ears as the drumsticks crashed into the snare drum and moved along hit the cymbals a couple times. This was it. This was what had been missing for the past ten years. This rush. This feeling. His dream. It was now that he could find himself again. The screaming fans…the air in his lungs, this was a new beginning.
Reply
This smiling face, do they really by it? The nervous laughter, what do I have to be nervous about? Twenty years in the spotlight, half my life, it isn’t nervousness it’s just the mask I wear. So much is expected from me, but I expect even more from myself, do they not understand that? No, of course they don’t, I wear my mask well. I don’t let them see the real pain underneath it. So I’ll continue on this way, act as expected and try to give back to the life that has consumed me. However…what if the mask cracked?
Reply
When had it become this way? When had his life become his work? It didn’t used to be this way…sure he was always the perfectionist when it came to recording, concerts; everything had to be perfect for X. But it changed, it become more…maybe less? He couldn’t sleep, so he worked…he couldn’t get a song to sound right, so he added another project. This was everything to him now. Work, focus, make it perfect. For them. For himself. With this he could escape.
Reply
I’ve decided. I guess I should be more specific………. I’ve decided what the best taste in the world is. I know, not that big of a deal, but I’ve decided none-the-less. It isn’t something you’d expect…well unless you did….but alright, here it is!
Blue Skittles.
No seriously…my assistant brought me a package of them while I was recording, The blue ones taste the best! I saved them for last……..they were very good, I have very nice people working with me.
Reply
I don't really have 'parents' anymore, I'm not sure I ever really did. When my father was alive he always much too busy to pay me much attention, other then to insist I learn the Piano, I wished I'd discovered the Drums before...
My Mother still stays in contact, she's sweet, but always sad, I think a large part of her died with my Father.
If only he'd talked to us, maybe, just maybe we could have shown him the way…
Reply
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