The songs sat alone, unplayed, in their chunky, black spiral home until they started to call out to me from the shelf. Why have you forgotten us? We are part of you too! We deserve to be heard! The problem with them being heard is that taken out of context they didn't mean as much to me. To me, you really needed to understand the stories behind them in order for them to properly come alive. So how do I do that?
I write a book, about that time, that person that I was, those things I experienced. I include those songs as part of the book so that the reader can experience them with full understanding. Now what?
Well, if you're me you let the book sit (almost finished) on a shelf for two years. You do this for many reasons. One, you have a health issue that puts every other priority other than feeling better to the back burner. Additionally, you are too afraid of what people might say or think if they read it. You are a private person. Private people don't pull back the curtain for the world to see. So on the shelf, again, those songs, and the story behind them, sat. Those songs are angry songs at their core and so again started to bother me.
That brings us to now. I've finished this amazing piece of me. This story that was dying to be told, set to its own soundtrack. I'm healthy, but still private. It's been a hard decision, but what the hell is the point of writing a book if it's just going to sit on the shelf? So, here it is, world. Love it or hate it. It was a long time ago. I was a different person than I am now. I wrote these songs.
