Heart pounding, and hands shaking I climbed atop everyone with a huge grin upon my face. When I first got into music I was intrigued by the message behind every song; however, I knew I would never be capable of making music in that way. Nowadays my mind won’t let me sleep all I think of is what other people think of me, of my music. I sat there staring at a blank paper with my piano aside me. My mind filled with negativity, before I knew it my pen was writing, my hand moving, and words began appearing on my paper. I mimicked beats on the radio; however, I felt as if they weren’t good enough. I spend hours trying to reach perfection, but I know I will never achieve it. My head is pounding and I shake away the pain, but it suddenly creeps up again and again…migraine. “Am I the only one I know/ waging my wars behind my face and above my throat?”  I sometimes feel as if my depression will make me worse however, “Life has a hopeful undertone.” At least I hope so. Music is what keeps me alive, it distracts me from everything else but without a radio all my fears creep up, my insecurities, and wrong doings...car radio.”…And now I just sit in silence.” I can’t hold back my thoughts they’re killing me slowly and as the days go by I believe death might be the only way out.
I begin writing more songs…Blurryface, that’s what I’ll call him. He’s sitting in front of me staring into my soul telling me everything I’m doing wrong. He sits there with a blank expression I don’t know who he is or how to get rid of him. I look down, my neck is black, my hands are black. I look at him and ask “What do you want from me?” He says nothing. I’m thinking what’s wrong with me? Am I going crazy? I suddenly can’t breathe, my hands are held against my throat, and my vision gets blurry, darkness. That’s all I see, across from me I see a red light, it’s coming towards me, running, sprinting. Next thing you know I open my eyes I’m where I was before. What happened? I don’t know. However, what I do know is that I have to work harder, I’m beginning to become more stressed as the time goes by…stressed out. “Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days…” As I’m writing I can sense him staring me down, looking over my shoulder, pressuring me to make everything perfect. I try to reach that level of perfection; however I realize that’s not the lane I should be going down…lane boy. “Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless…” I’m trying to defeat him get him out of my head; however, whatever I do it doesn’t seem to work. He judges me in everything I do…the judge. “I’m a pro at imperfections and I’m best friends with my doubt…” I realize that he’ll never go away no matter how hard I try. I see other people, they have the same problems, same fears, same doubts…doubt. “Fear might be the death of me/Fear leads to anxiety/don’t know what’s inside of me.”
I share my music…they understand. They’re no longer afraid, they stay alive, and release their emotions. So I also let go, and express myself through my music. I write for hours I’m in the booth all day. He comes back, those thoughts creeping upon me once again, my vision yet again goes blurry, my neck...black, my hands…black. Darkness comes again, but now I see thousands of white lights everywhere and more begin to appear. I open my eyes, I’m sitting in front of my piano, and I look up. I look to my right and I see my best friend, Josh. He looks at me and nods his head as to tell me to go on. I stand up to go stage front and to my surprise I see fans looking up at me in awe. I see posters being held up, “Thank you”, they say. I climb atop the crowd and examine the room I see faces, but this time they’re not blank. They’re filled with emotion, with hope, with pride. I turn to Josh and say, “We did it.”, and the entire room booms with noise. However, as I turn again I see Blurryface taking control of Josh.