"All my angst derived from horror movies, series and the real. Now, my strength. Utilized for the betterment of others. How? The tolerance to transference. Counter-transference a thing of a past it has become. For I am here, in all my glory, risen from the dead, to be amongst the living, the dead and the living dead."
It must have been that what happened moments after my drum solo on this colorful cheapstake five year old instrument, that captured my being for many years to come. A phone call during my performance brought my mother, and others to tears. I stopped and watched the seas manifest themselves onto faces, furniture and the floor. Already overwhelmed by confusion and anxiety, A sobbing crowd gathered around me and showerd me with gifts and tears. The moment I was overburdened with soaked wrapping paper and toys, this crowd whispered with cracks in their voice how sorry they were. I started to cry as well because they wouldn't tell me what turned them into the ocean floor whereto I slowly sank. Then, as I remember, my mother told me with a stance portraying bravery, almost as if I was what they feared most, that my grand father had passed away. The only (hu)man who's love I accepted. The only man who's love was present and given.
To be continued...
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