Sunday, April 24, 2011

In my mind

Breezes whispering in towering pines
Waves lapping along the shore
High and distant, a jet flies to parts unknown
Full of people, unseen; Living lives unknown

I am too much the recluse to live the life I desire
Of friends and music, happy times doing what I love
Envious of those who just go out and do it
In the scene.
But I'm always the dark horse, the hermit, known but unknown
Happily greeted if ever seen, yet part of nothing and no one
Never called, never asked
It only feeds my stupid insecurities

I could do that, I say (to myself)
I didn't know you played out, they say (to me)
And so I am a fine musician who thinks he is not
I am a performer without a stage

And I say to myself, this is why they don't call:
You aren't good enough
They don't like you
You suck

Why is it when someone gives a compliment they don't know what they are talking about
Yet when someone gives a criticism they must be right

In my mind, in my mind