The Dying of Bobby Mars

Music erupts like a volcano of angst. Darren screams out to the crowd like a fallen angel preaching against the normal. He looks untouchable, but it's a lie...

I'm sorry, Darren.

Sally starts to sing, and the words surge through the crowd like a beast as they mosh and scream. I hammer on my drums, drinking it in with a jittery smile. Tyler slaps his bass like he's trying to find the festering crowd's vein and gift them a high worth celebrating. I wish Dad were here to see this, but whatever, it won't matter soon anyways.

Seeing this all again is hell.

Haven't slept in two days. Probably won't sleep tonight. Hard to say, don't really remember today. It's all a blur from another life ago. I used to think this was glorious-most of me still does, probably always will-but seeing us fly this close to the sun for the momentary glory...

It isn't worth it.

None of this is worth it.

But hearing the music fill us. It's soothing. And igniting. Never has any drug made me feel more alive than being on stage.

I don't want to lose all this again.

I can't lose this again...