Wednesday, February 16, 2005

the mysticism of rockstardom
why we do wot we do

the swirling lights, the smoke machines, the chants, the recognition, the cool, the mtv, the mighty red.. the list goes on, and the shroud of mystery grows. in ever facing fame and fortune, the mask of annonyminity grows thicker. the more public your life becomes, the more private you actually are as the press paints an unrealistic picture of your demi-godness, that if you were caught picking your nose, the rockstar would come crashing back down to earth. in the short lifespan of imminent rockstardom, why do some embrace the utter nihilism of it all, that wot goes up ultimately comes down?

for some of us, it's the actual belief in your own music. even in the face of commercial success or outright bankruptcy, we face the world on an empty stage with friends who believe in an unseen thing, a muse that has trancended the polished refinedness of constant practice and put everything on the line for the lifetime of one set. in one set, or two, or three, everything culminates into one singular moment of life and death that could fall apart at any moment. for some of us, that is wot we live for, that moment. the moment of calling forth all your emotion, beliefs and understanding and corrupting the 'perfect' world we live in, and holding those notes or singing those lines as if they could change something, make a difference, speak to someone, yourself silently speaking. these voices and noises are like curses in our minds that like a syren, craves to get out, to reach your ears, pull you in and never let you go.

and when the world falls away, and the scales of reality once again cover our eyes, once the doors of perception are closed, we are once again shackled and bound to the utter nihilism once again. the darkness as some would call it. for some of us, we parade nightly to fight against the night, stepping into the light.. never lasting more than a moment, we live to soldier on. because as the decemberists say i never felt so much life, huddled in the trenches, our rifles blazing.

why do we do wot we do? an answer lies dormant in all of us to live it out.

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