The last few years of my life are mostly a blur. Trapped somewhere in between a dream and fog…
No, I’m no junkie, I hardly drink and I don’t suffer from any mind altering head trauma. I simply have not felt most things to be worth remembering. People, places, recent world events, all things that apply to me just as they would a bird, or maybe a gust of wind. To be honest I’m not fond of most people. In fact they tend to annoy or aggravate me. Thus I spend most of my time either held up in my studio or on a stage where the spot lights turn their stupid expressions into a blur of silhouettes. I enjoy the company of few people, and really few enjoy my company as well. My brother Adam tells me I alienate others and push people away, pick out flaws in people so I don’t have to like them…. This coming from a 24 year old with the maturity of a 16 year old. My mind is boggled that he has somehow managed to graduate with his BA in Architecture. I personally would never come within one block of a structure that that neanderthal drafts.
I spend most of my time absorbed in my passion, studying and partaking in the art of Music. Feeling and expressing the beautiful, soothing hymn of what could only be the voice of God himself. You see, Music is quite possibly the single most important form of human expression. Only we of all things created have been given the ability of creating and understanding such a unique splendor. It is all around us and inside of us, yet so many understand so little about it. In fact….most tend to know nothing at all.
One memory that I can clearly remember from my youth is hearing the soft melody echoing down the hallway from the apartment I lived in as a child. Sure, I had heard music before… yet, something was different. Although I cannot recall the song, its essence still remains to this day embodied in my being. From that day forth I had to create it myself. My parents fostered and nurtured the idea of me taking on music at an early age. A great pastime and a positive activity. Heh. However, by the time I was 18 my father felt I needed to focus on “more important” aspects of life and stop with the silly pipe dreams of a kid wanting to be a musician… Parents. Always insisting that because they created you, they know more than you and must beat it into your head that ‘They know best, and are always correct’… Let us just say I see little of my parents these days and wouldn’t mind seeing even less…Thankfully, they have limited their cordial little phone calls to just the major holidays.
I enjoy time to myself. Some of the best times I can remember from the fog that has been the last 4 or 5 years of my life is standing in front of my window, watching people walking up and down the street. Like ants they march in neat little lines, always somewhere to go, some place to be. Work, socialize, pleasure, sleep then repeat, again and again… The sun sets and the streets empty. Filth takes the place of what could have at one point been known as people. Huddling under awnings, over trash can fire pits. Oh it’s not only the homeless I speak of. People of all walks of life act differently when they think no one’s watching. For instance, that guy you may have met at the bar yesterday may have seemed as if he were a nice guy, yet at night he can be seen hanging around the alleyway selling whatever type of narcotic you can think of. Then the rain comes, rain that one would hope just washes the bull shit of life away, yet all it does is bring them indoors, into bars, clubs…. ah, the downside to having a night life, eh?
I mentioned having very few friends. This is quite literal actually. Sure, I play in many bands and sometimes chat with bartenders and club owners. But in reality I really have one friend. A musical genius who insists he be called the Cajun. His name is Francis Roubidox, a retired musician from the 70’s who can play a guitar like no other I have ever heard. Although he doesn’t play anymore, I managed to find a few of his records in a used record store (that’s how I found out his real name). This guy could make Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart cry, yet for some reason after two albums he stopped. Why, I don’t know… Had he continued surely his name would be up there with Clapton, Santana, Frampton and the others. An odd guy, loves to hear others play and talk about music. And always there to help you out with writer’s block. Every Saturday he can be found in his regular seat, in the back of the “Original Blues” jazz club. Guy’s got an open tab I’ve never seen anyone collect on. Every Saturday he shows up around 9:00pm and sits in his one chair till around 4:00am. Minds his business and watches each performer. I’ve had hour long discussions with him about my passions and this guy knows what he’s talking about… Old Cajun, I’d be a shut-in loner if not for him…
Lately most things in life have been growing dim. Like a lone streetlight on a dark street I feel as if I am a moth drawn to this solitary light, and the light is my passion. All else can be ignored, or if need be, tolerated. However… Here under this light can be lonely, for all around you is dark. Other moths come and go, some too dull to realize they have stumbled into it, others going too close and burning. I fear both…yet none at all.
You see I have but one problem. With all the things I care little for slowly fading behind a shroud like an audience behind a spotlight, I can’t help but fear if my passion for song will fade as well. I cannot deny that I haven’t felt it fade just a little. Am I truly going numb? You see I have but one problem…Fear… I fear I will lose the only thing I crave, desire, need. I have the fear that one day I will be one of those ants walking the streets, that the music will slowly transform into the simple tune you kinda sing along to in the car on the way to work. In truth I sometimes fear leaving my studio… I don’t understand why… If I die I leave behind nothing, no one….So why the fear?…Maybe it’s that…I don’t know…. Isn’t that frightening enough?
But until my my fears are either confirmed or washed away I’ll continue to do as I have been. Why change? As far as what I want and need I’m perfect. I live for my passion and as of now my passion is good to me. Sure women come and go from time to time, but they prove to be meaningless. Love? If I ever felt it, it died not but a few moments later…. It’s the music that lives on forever. For music is immortal.
Body Type:Slender and lithe.
Hair: Jet black with vibrant crimson streaks.
Distinguishing Features:Stunningly clear skin and shiny, silky hair. Notably handsome.