me vs the teenage years

[cheesecakecj]

 ive been convinced to believe crappy shows packed into a sweaty basement like a can of sardines is the best place to be on a friday night. where microphone static echoes through the speakers, lasting a split second before being beckoned into song. mosh pits turn into a humiliation ritual of blood and damp beads of sweat clinging to clothes.

i dont have the flexibility to play guitar. i sold my drumset. i have an average singing voice. there seems to be no future that i seem to try to manifest in my words. there will be no band, no books. my pen only writes dreams that form from other people's success.