More than the image

Celebretism.

Fans.

Screaming.

Stage on fire.

Limos.

Secrets. No Secrets.

Bono is still a man. So is Akon. And Chris Martin. And Taylor Hanson. Maybe.

To write. A song. That speaks to people. It's here. At your chest. Digging deap. It's romanticized. It carves a something-shaped hole - never fills, only reverberates and magnifies. He hates it, but she loves it. It takes you to a moment you forgot. And the rain falls. And you want that moment to repeat itself. You want to save it and put it in your pocket and pull it out when you're in that place again. Like when you were with your best friends in the summer on the beach and you couldn't remember ever worrying about anything. Like when you weren't upset about your brother or your parents or your school or your job or your paycheck. But now the songs speaks to your paycheck. And you listen to it with your headphones on because you don't want anyone to steal the experience you're having right now. You feel it, again, and again. And finally, you want to share it. So, you show your best friend, you share that white ear bud, even though it's splitting the stereo, you both still get it. And you both feel it, again and again. Because someone wrote a song. Because someone dared to write a song. For some it's as easy as sitting down and typing a few words to a simple melody. But for all, it's a risk.

And an adventure.

I'm glad you're listening.