This is What Fire Feels Like

I feel like I’m losing my mind. Unraveling. I’m scared(?) Yes. Scared of what?
Dying?
Fucking up. Having what family I have left disown me.

But I know there is no other path. I have to do this. I have to go back to Europe and play music. Get energized by the city. Berlin. I need to get to. I need to focus. Pick one thing and go for it. But first there something I have to attend to, when my body screams to focus on one thing and go for it, to stop wasting my time.

I am staying in Canada to make up a high school course I need for successful application to college. Its going to be hard but good to have it done and be registered.

As soon as its done I want to be gone. Perfecting my street show. Touching people with my music. I’m so good. And I’m getting better every day. The practicing is getting so high-level and sophisticated. My fingers are getting more adept, dextrous and deft. I really enjoy the sound I’m making.

I met with an old friend this evening. He, like many people who care about me asked me if I had ever thought about seeing a therapist. I told him I had, but I also told him there were two reasons I had not.

First, and it bears mention, I am not in the Canadian health care system. This is an obstacle that I have not surmounted, but it is surmountable.

Why haven’t I surmounted it?

I’m not convinced that I am wrong. I’m not convinced that I should pack up and go home on my aspirations, my higher ones. True, massage has a place in my life and I want to develop that over the longer term. So I will do this course. I need to do it, to pave a more streamlined future track for myself down the road.

In the interim, I can still live in Hamilton I think. It’s not Berlin, or Paris, or Amsterdam, but it has something. And there is family here; my military regiment.

I love to spend hours at the cenotaph, playing by the new monument for the war in Afghanistan. As I play, improvising over the same few chords over again, and really going for it musically, the guitar migrates to my right side, I pull my right shoulder back to accommodate the new position and I feel waves of release pulsing through my arm, shoulder and back. A healing is taking place at a deeper level and I work through things mentally and emotionally. Clarity comes.

My guitar is going to be all I have for a while. I think I am ready. It’s not the biggest piece of debris scattered around the shipwreck but it will float my weight.

It may not be the biggest cross on the hill but I think I can die on it.

-Dre

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