At the age of 10 I wanted to be a singing star.
At the age of 20 I wanted to be a singing star.
At the age of 30 I wanted to be a singing star.
At the age of 43....I "still" want to be a singing star.
Somehow I don't see that happening.
Since I was a child, and realized I could sing, I always thought I was something special. That God had given me a gift.
I would hide away in my room and sing to my records. I naturally harmonized with John Denver. My Mother would pound on my door telling me to turn down the stereo. Problem was...it wasn't loud. It was me. In highschool, parents would comment on how I had "it". Passing on college (a long post for another day), I did the northeast Ohio rock circuit. The whole while people I didn't even know coming up to me stating I was wasting my time where I was, because I had "it". All my musician friends told me to move. Nashville, NYC, LA...anywhere but where I was because I had "it". This is when I realized I could sing.
Singing was my passion. It is what I lived for, breathed for.
Now...at the age of 43...I have come to the horrid realization that it's "probably" not going to happen.
How does one learn to not be special? How does one learn to just exist as everyone else does?
How are people happy just living in Craptown, USA, punching a clock, making dinner, living paycheck to paycheck?
How does one learn to basically just sit and wait to die? Isn't that what we are all doing? Some lives more exciting than others?