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If You Don't Live What You Sing About Your Mirror Is Gonna Find Out...
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Chapter One: If You Don’t Live What You Sing About Your Mirror Is Gonna Find Out.
The music was really loud and it could be heard in the back alley behind the club. I was currently smoking my pre-gig cigarette. I hadn’t thought about that night in ages. I had tried to forget about all that and had seemingly succeeded. Until recently, that stupid jerk had made an appearance in my dream a month ago and hasn’t left since. “Apple, you’re on in five.” I heard a voice behind me say and the door shut again. I took a last drag and threw my cigarette onto the wet ground and stubbed it out with the toe of my black Chuck Taylor. Here we go.
I walked out onto the tiny stage armed with a cup of herbal tea and my acoustic guitar. I knew that this was the one place that the past couldn’t reach me. Up here I was safe from him and his words. I sat on the stool at the front of the stage and squinted my eyes to the light. “Hello.” My voice was quiet and almost went unnoticed by the crowd. I let my fingers slide over the frets and my fingers weave through the strings. The sound was slow and tired. This is where I can show them. I can say it all right here.
“Sleepwalking through the all-nite drugstore
baptized in florescent light
I found religion in the greeting card aisle
now I know hallmark was right
and every pop song on the radio
is suddenly speaking to me
yeah, art may imitate life
but life imitates t.v.
'cuz you've been gone exactly two weeks
two weeks and three days
and let's just say that things look different now
different in so many ways.”
I felt the anger and hurt rise up like ashes. I stung all over. But this was a fictional sting. A safe kind of sting.
“I used to be a superhero
no one could touch me
not even myself
you are like a phone booth
I somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
If I was dressed in my best defenses
would you agree to meet me for coffee
if I did my tricks with smoke and mirrors
would you still know which one was me
if I was naked and screaming
on your front lawn
would you turn on the light and come down
screaming, there's the asshole
who did this to me
stripped me of my power
stripped me down.”
Everyone is watching me now. Because they can feel it, like I am standing in front of him and they are swimming in my veins. My body radiates hate and hurt. It’s my real talent. A talent I have been building since I as a kid. I needed it, it’s my sanity. My net.
“I used to be a superhero
no one could touch me
not even myself
you are like a phone booth
i somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
Yeah you've been gone exactly two weeks
two weeks and three days
and now I'm a different person
different in so many ways
tell me what did you like about me
don't say my strength and daring
'cuz now I think I'm at your mercy
and it's my first time for this kind of thing
I used to be a superhero
I would swoop down and save me
from myself
you are like a phone booth
that I somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
I am worse than everybody else.”
I let myself drag on, my pain whipping around. Blowing like the chill wind.
When the music finished I took a deep breath and smiled up at the black vastness of stage. The clapping that erupted always made me nervous, I felt weird being appreciated. I shouldn’t. I know that I was deserving. They were appreciating my work and my pain. It still made me nervous. “Thanks, you know. I really appreciate your... applause but could you like not. It just makes me... nervous.” I took a sip of my tea and smiled again. “That was ‘Superhero’. This uh... this next song is called...” The rest of the set went on without a problem. After the set I stepped off the stage with my mug. I knew no one but the band and that made me feel weird. People kept coming up to me as I went to the bar for more tea. They were telling me how special my music was and I thanked them, I thanked them and resented them. Did they really think that this was worth it? Sure my songs were great but at what cost? Look at what it had taken to get to here. I was torn apart and broken down. What they say about the phoenix rising from the ashes, I think I might have rose wrong. I rose and instead of being refreshed I arose with a blinding anger. One I had to unleash.
AN: Hey, so there was the first chapter. The lyrics are by Ani Difranco, a song called 'Superhero'. Instead of trying to write my own lyrics and ending up making this story suck I decided to use other angry chick music. I hope you enjoyed this... Please comment... I love comments and so does my pen.
The music was really loud and it could be heard in the back alley behind the club. I was currently smoking my pre-gig cigarette. I hadn’t thought about that night in ages. I had tried to forget about all that and had seemingly succeeded. Until recently, that stupid jerk had made an appearance in my dream a month ago and hasn’t left since. “Apple, you’re on in five.” I heard a voice behind me say and the door shut again. I took a last drag and threw my cigarette onto the wet ground and stubbed it out with the toe of my black Chuck Taylor. Here we go.
I walked out onto the tiny stage armed with a cup of herbal tea and my acoustic guitar. I knew that this was the one place that the past couldn’t reach me. Up here I was safe from him and his words. I sat on the stool at the front of the stage and squinted my eyes to the light. “Hello.” My voice was quiet and almost went unnoticed by the crowd. I let my fingers slide over the frets and my fingers weave through the strings. The sound was slow and tired. This is where I can show them. I can say it all right here.
“Sleepwalking through the all-nite drugstore
baptized in florescent light
I found religion in the greeting card aisle
now I know hallmark was right
and every pop song on the radio
is suddenly speaking to me
yeah, art may imitate life
but life imitates t.v.
'cuz you've been gone exactly two weeks
two weeks and three days
and let's just say that things look different now
different in so many ways.”
I felt the anger and hurt rise up like ashes. I stung all over. But this was a fictional sting. A safe kind of sting.
“I used to be a superhero
no one could touch me
not even myself
you are like a phone booth
I somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
If I was dressed in my best defenses
would you agree to meet me for coffee
if I did my tricks with smoke and mirrors
would you still know which one was me
if I was naked and screaming
on your front lawn
would you turn on the light and come down
screaming, there's the asshole
who did this to me
stripped me of my power
stripped me down.”
Everyone is watching me now. Because they can feel it, like I am standing in front of him and they are swimming in my veins. My body radiates hate and hurt. It’s my real talent. A talent I have been building since I as a kid. I needed it, it’s my sanity. My net.
“I used to be a superhero
no one could touch me
not even myself
you are like a phone booth
i somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
Yeah you've been gone exactly two weeks
two weeks and three days
and now I'm a different person
different in so many ways
tell me what did you like about me
don't say my strength and daring
'cuz now I think I'm at your mercy
and it's my first time for this kind of thing
I used to be a superhero
I would swoop down and save me
from myself
you are like a phone booth
that I somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else
I am worse than everybody else.”
I let myself drag on, my pain whipping around. Blowing like the chill wind.
When the music finished I took a deep breath and smiled up at the black vastness of stage. The clapping that erupted always made me nervous, I felt weird being appreciated. I shouldn’t. I know that I was deserving. They were appreciating my work and my pain. It still made me nervous. “Thanks, you know. I really appreciate your... applause but could you like not. It just makes me... nervous.” I took a sip of my tea and smiled again. “That was ‘Superhero’. This uh... this next song is called...” The rest of the set went on without a problem. After the set I stepped off the stage with my mug. I knew no one but the band and that made me feel weird. People kept coming up to me as I went to the bar for more tea. They were telling me how special my music was and I thanked them, I thanked them and resented them. Did they really think that this was worth it? Sure my songs were great but at what cost? Look at what it had taken to get to here. I was torn apart and broken down. What they say about the phoenix rising from the ashes, I think I might have rose wrong. I rose and instead of being refreshed I arose with a blinding anger. One I had to unleash.
AN: Hey, so there was the first chapter. The lyrics are by Ani Difranco, a song called 'Superhero'. Instead of trying to write my own lyrics and ending up making this story suck I decided to use other angry chick music. I hope you enjoyed this... Please comment... I love comments and so does my pen.
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