I cried to her, "Please let me become a rockstar"

Believe me.

I can write songs, I kept on wrying in front of my girlfriend the whole time. She has no clue that I write poems and poems can be converted to songs. She does not know that I can learn tools faster. I just need 10-20 days to get a basic sound track out with some keys, bass, snare&kicks. I can really do that.

I asked, “Why don’t you want me to be a rockstar ?” She said, “You will never be, music is a diatribe, and you can’t always be everything and it’s not at as easy you think it is”. I shouted, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

I said, “I can prove it to you. I am already full and over-loading with ideas. I have ideas to write songs about Death, Pride, Melancholy, Failure, Love, Intense Intimacy and Families. Death and pride will roll in every verse of the song. Do you want me to make a song lyric right now in front of you ? Fuck it. I’ll just do it. Hold on here, I’ll bring a feather, shard some blood from my hand and a paper”.

I ran to my room, tore a piece of paper from “The Machine of Self Righteousness”, got a feather from my drawer. She was making her nails while I was all lost in the relentless energy. I took her nail sharpening knife and stabbed it in my left arm. I had enough blood to fill a small cup, I got enough blood in the cup and started writing.

I held her in mine and said, “Let me start, just see this”.

I wrote the title of the song, “I cried to her”

I told her, “The song will be about me losing you some day just like I lost my mother in an accident and I never even went to walk in her Black Parade. Be with me, I’ll walk you through the writing, the writing will speak for itself and the song will reveal with every line”.

She asked, “why are you crying all of a sudden ?” I said, “It’s a part of the writing, hold on and just observe, I can write, if I can write, I can sing, if I can sing, I can sing in a fucking studio, If I can sing and understand tones, I will mend the keys to the song. Just observe.”

I started writing the first line,

“I can’t love, like I did yesterday Sometimes, we cry so hard for the one who left Praying to the liar sitting over our heads”

I was reciting as I wrote, but she was just staring at my hand.

“I am just a boy, not a hero I am just a lover, not a romeo who had to write this song to prove his hate for the mundane I want the world, to hear me sing”

I continued,

“Hey music, Oh Music I love you I love you I love you, Music”

I told her, “Are you listening ?”. She said, “yeah, yeah I’m doing. go on maniac”. I said, “Okay, the part I wrote about loving music will be the part where I will get a bunch of women to sing like an Acapella for me. I’ll find some friends, that’s not a worry. I know a few friends who have brilliant voice”.

She started acting dumbfounded and cute. She said, “Oh! I also have that soft and brilliant voice you’re talking about there right ?”.

I said, “Of course, my love!”

I stopped for a while and started wondering if I can come with a concept for the Album Art and Music Video. I believed, I can figure out everything so I started looking around the house.

I wanted break, so I got up, lit my cigarette, walked towards the balcony, she joined me as well. I asked, “Do you want to share ?”

She said, “It’s the stronger one right ? Yes, I think I’ll love even smoking whole myself”. I said, “Eh, you’re a mildly mad monster mending my mundane mind”.

I put my hand over her arm and we walked to the balcony together. I took a puff, then she took it. She was purposely taking longer puff’s making sure I don’t get to smoke much.

I told her, “Let’s be romantically chaotic and we will find our Art within that process itself”.

She said, “What ?”

I laughed.