(no subject)
I am a cold manic. It hurts me so; I hear the music in my head, and it breaks me down, as much as I break it down. Music is a strange comfort. I want to play the sound, share it, project it, afflict others with my muses. I try to do the best I can, to influence but not overwhelm, to share what I've acquired without corrupting, to broaden other people's horizons without adjusting the vertical. I realize that I am intense, more than most people can adjust to, I try to balance my chaos and my sound with the life, the world.
I feel that there's a sound, a beat, a rhythm, that I'm supposed to find, and share with everyone that would appreciate what that value represents. I live in a really real world, but it's not a world that most people could comprehend. I know my purpose; I am here to spread the sound, to define the sound as real, to make the noise heard, and from that, felt. I hear the song in my dreams, and I can only pray I'm worthy enough to translate this sound into music. Music hurts my brain. I take the pain and I relish it, soak myself and subdue it, make it into something that everyone can listen to. I wake up everyday knowing I'm not good enough yet but I have the sound, inside me. If I don't fail, I will succeed. I love you all, you know who you are, the people that made me give a damn about anything. I will make you proud, even if I never see you again. You, the love I've found, you give me the strength to fight. I love you all, and I'll see you again, in my dreams if you never see me. This is so important I might never sleep again, but if I can share what I feel, not all will be lost. My best friends just showed up, I must go be inspired...
Truly, rock on
Plaid Andy
I feel that there's a sound, a beat, a rhythm, that I'm supposed to find, and share with everyone that would appreciate what that value represents. I live in a really real world, but it's not a world that most people could comprehend. I know my purpose; I am here to spread the sound, to define the sound as real, to make the noise heard, and from that, felt. I hear the song in my dreams, and I can only pray I'm worthy enough to translate this sound into music. Music hurts my brain. I take the pain and I relish it, soak myself and subdue it, make it into something that everyone can listen to. I wake up everyday knowing I'm not good enough yet but I have the sound, inside me. If I don't fail, I will succeed. I love you all, you know who you are, the people that made me give a damn about anything. I will make you proud, even if I never see you again. You, the love I've found, you give me the strength to fight. I love you all, and I'll see you again, in my dreams if you never see me. This is so important I might never sleep again, but if I can share what I feel, not all will be lost. My best friends just showed up, I must go be inspired...
Truly, rock on
Plaid Andy