You spend your whole life thinking you're a lunatic. Then you find out you're not only crazy but seem to be getting crazier every day. You find yourself locked inside a world that's not yours; you just hide in it, living like an extra in a movie—the crazy man who fled reality, lurking in the shadows, disguised as the friend of a friend.
Then you start to see, through the cracks in the walls, people moving on, growing distant. It becomes clear you weren't just forgotten—you disappeared.
Your dreams turned into a doorway to resentment; your ideas make you feel childish, ridiculous, and delusional. It's been more than ten years, and nothing has happened; nothing ever does.
So, you decide to burn everything.
And right before the flames reach you, you turn around and find it’s always been there, inside you, almost in front of you: the way out… or the way back in, whatever. Not that you were looking to go back, but there’s an offer to risk everything again—this time, with the promise of something happening.
Even though you’re so tired that the taste of your own dreams feels awkwardly bitter in your mouth…
Even though nothing’s guaranteed, and you could lose the little you almost don’t have…
Even though you’re so weak that every smile seems like a personal attack… Even though everything has changed, and you know nothing beyond your tiny room anymore… Even though you feel older than your grandpa…
You take it. Because it’s the best chance you’re going to have in this existence. As old as you are, you know the room’s burning, so either you flee or burn along with it.
I still don't know if I made it out alive, or this is a completely new life...
For so long, I thought the world would forget me forever. No one would ever know I was alive. Now, I’m starting to have little pieces of me scattered around—little horcruxes that make me live forever. As long as curious eyes and ears accidentally stumble upon one of my tunes, I’m good. I don’t care if they’re liked, as long as they’re out there, being listened to (eventually).
It was so simple. And I almost died trying to figure it out. I just had to (figuratively) burn the whole place down.
Anyway, I feel seen.
(Let’s hope I also get to feel famous and rich.)
Burn the ropes that hold you down. And play your harp away, little Nero… who knows where you might end up.
New music soon... (like, next month).
Comments