When you’re in a little room.

 “I wish I had a little box the put my best friend in I would take then out and punch. punch? punch! And put him back again” - Jack whites. 

I think there is something about a big dream in ones mind that is hard to bury. It will fight back and cling to life after decades in a dungeon and you will literally have to beat it down with a shovel.

This is me and my rock n roll dream. My delusion of raging to greatness. Of doing my best to have a bad TV movie made in style of networks that no longer exist… like all those fifties rock n rollers (that is normal right?). So I can be inducted into the Rock n’ roll hall of fame and learn I could rub shoulders with the greatest. None of that is going to happen though, but, how important to say it that? To normalize the absurdity of a dream. I struggle to have friends and have relationships last longer than a hook up….

The white stripes got inducted into the rock n roll hall of fame. And dang if that little speech about sitting in the tree with Meg and building a peppermint wheel parade float and making God smile didn’t make me cry a little.

Something about how naive I am with my mindless pursuit of rock and roll. Inspite of knowing literature makes a bit more sense aesthetically. Or how the rock n roll hall of fame is the antithesis of the music… and I think why I cried is not because music died but because part of me did.

I mean let’s face it. I burned all my bridges in Knoxville was banned Likely still am at most the venues. Never even played a full show. I may not be good enough. I may be a hack. But dang it Im a true believer in the naive desire of sharing music singing along. So I will keep doing that but I need to change and I don’t even know how to go about it. Or what direction it would be if I could change.

So it’s 1-am and i am listening to Jack White tear it up in his Detroit living room on my favorite stripes album de stijl. And I keep thinking who am I? Why am I so entitled? And I remember…”the truth doesn’t make a sound.”