I wonder what kind of blog this one will be. How will I make these words dance today? Will it be a happy Irish jig, or a slow dance to a sad song? I want this symphony of words to be a master piece, legendary and unforgotten. Hey Beethoven wait for me, I want to join you. I wave my coffee in the air composing a thousand buttons that push their hearts out. An orchestra of crescendos, that strictly depends on my mood. A thousand white eyes are looking for more, as they hover in the black air. The world has stopped around me, as the violin creates pink elephants that dance in my head. Memories of my child hood play in a wave of coffee that carries me out deeper into my subconscious. As the music picks up I start to rise. Now I fly with the storks. It’s a good feeling dropping off little weightlifting babies to their mothers down below. There is a dark stage wearing one black dress, playing one black piano as soft as an angel. I have no idea how she got there, or even where "there" is. This world is filled with brick houses lined up for miles that all look exactly the same. Have you ever woke up on a farm in the middle of the night, and couldn't find your parents? Have the trees at night ever made patterns that scared you when you were a kid? This is a concert of all things that you are still unsure of to this day. What did you really see? And where were you when this all happened? I dream when I write, so I love to write. I sing with a mask on, and I hide in my blog. This concert hall is so quiet at night once you have all left. When a pen drops, I hope it’s you coming back for me. I patiently wait ‘til I can compose again, so you will float down and join me. I feel alive once you are with me, and suicidal once you have left. I am the green blinking light on your computer while you sleep, just in case you wake and can’t find me. I am here for you whenever you need me.
My orchestra is filled with skeletons and angels. They play happy songs that make me write beautiful things. The skeletons sometimes turn my symphony into a painful memory of sadness. At night it gets worse when you are not around. As you read this you become more confused. The reason being is because you have entered my insane mind. To become a weightlifter you must already be crazy. To stick with this sport you must be out of your mind. Maybe that's why you are attracted to my twisted dark symphony. You are just as crazy as I am. You clap, when most people would run. You are the phantom that appears, but then you leave me all alone. Please stay with me and train. Let’s write together and become best friends. My dad left me....so will you be my new one? This blog can be your new home. Your seat is 24b, enjoy the show. Phantom 2012