life is a playground, so live it like a symphony

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 How do you begin writing A Story of You half-way through the changing process?

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A Friday dream

I dram I sang. Sang to an audience of 200 people. Improvised. Broken. Inattentive to what was going on around me, how the audience saw me. Because I couldn’t help but feel detached, detached from my own song. I paid too much attention to the audience, too much attention to the image of me before them. I sat there trying to get each note right. I should’ve sang raw. Performed bare of light, smoke, and mirrors. I should’ve been naked. That’s how you get the connection you’ve always wanted.

fuck

Pablo Guarneros