“I’ll hold on for all the days, the hours – to be the man I used to know” - Ascension
If ever there were a time to speak up, now would be the time. The first few words are always the hardest, and would you look at that? I’m two sentences in and I haven’t died yet, so I guess I’ll carry on.
My story isn’t any more painful or tragic than the next. In fact, there’s only one difference between my story and anyone who may be reading this. I had to live it. And I have to tell it now.
Absolution isn't about replaying the traumas of my past, it’s about being released from them. It's about the transformation that occurred when I finally let it all go. As Imogen Heap sings in Frou's Frou's, Let Go: "There's beauty in the breakdown." In my case, the breakdown was inevitable.
You see, I always thought of my life as a series of extremely unfortunate events that happened to me, and no matter what I did I could never recover from the constant victimized state I found myself in. Nothing seemed to wake me up. Not the death of my father, not the forces that pushed and pulled people in and out of my life, and not the plunge into darkness and addiction that left a shell of a human being. You know what did it? When I finally said three simple words: Enough. I'm done.
Once those words came out of my mouth, I knew there could be no more excuses. The ascension began with music as the medium to express it. Music has always been there, but I've not always had the courage, the true faith to share it. When the voices of self-doubt and fear start sounding off in my head, they tell me that millions of mouths could say it better. Really, what value could come from a mouth that spent years swallowing whatever pill or liquid would ensure its silence? Within a few sentences those pesky words could lead me to believe I'm a deeply damaged individual with baggage too heavy for most. And if my once silent mouth manages to spit out a few paragraphs? Well, I may actually have to take responsibility for the pain and chaos that’s swirled around me since I was a child.
Words backed by music can hide behind a kick drum or get squashed by the thump of a bass line. In that sense, it may seem like the safer option as opposed to the vulnerability I come up against now. Take away the drumbeat and the bass line. Take away the violin, the reverb - the piano. And there are my words all alone and waiting to be rejected.
But as I said, if ever there were a time to speak up, now would the time. It's time to open my mouth, and let go...