Giving it your all. | Teen Ink

Giving it your all.

March 24, 2011
By LostInTime SILVER, Charlotte, North Carolina
LostInTime SILVER, Charlotte, North Carolina
8 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Sometimes what you’ve always wanted turns out to be your worst nightmare. Sweat pours down my forehead, and I feel that familiar burning sensation, that lets me know that I’m red as beets. I am supposed to be cool, dreamy, on-top-of-it, but I feel like I’m going to die.
No one understands. Not a single person in that crowd of what seems like millions, knows how hard I have worked for this. Days and days I’ve spent pouring my soul into the piano, strumming the guitar, working my fingers until they were blistered and bleeding. That wasn’t even the half of it, the deepest pain came from the heart. All the situations I had gone through, the things that prepared me, that qualified me to be here.
Now here I am, preforming in front of a crowd, the dream is coming true, and Its about time. I’m not going to let this fall away, I’ve got to give it my all.
Suddenly I thrust new “umph” into my singing.
More Feeling. I think about all the tears I’ve shed. All the injustice done. All the people hurt.
More sound. I cut into the guitar a little harder, imagining that I can get my revenge on the world by playing my instrument to pieces.
More Soul. This is my song. This is me. This is what I’ve become. Every transformation, every feeling I’ve ever felt. Its all here. I dive in and pour myself out.


Its over, but I’m playing it again. I’m in a fury that I can’t stop. One more tear needs to be represented. One more stroke of revenge. The crowd is going wild, they love it. They think its a masterpiece. But its not, its just me, its all of me, its my whole heart.
Suddenly the music dies. I bow before the crowd of frenzied fans. I feel as naked as that stupid emperor from my favorite childhood storybook. I feel exposed, vulnerable and defenseless. I’d done this everyday for years now, but never has anyone seen it. Now all those strangers have,
How could I ever recover from such a shock?
I wanted to be famous.
I wanted to be known.
I wanted people to appreciate me.
I didn’t want them to see me tear my heart out and thrust it forward for everyone to see.
I will never ever preform again.
Personal things stay inside,
a plant cannot live with all its roots exposed.



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