when i was maybe 12, i used to do these music competitions
and years later i wonder why my anxiety is so bad. i remember one year, playing in the driveway with my sister like the child that i was and stepping haphazard on a skateboard and falling down and breaking my finger snap. the joke is that i skinned my knees so bad and the pain there was so sting-y that i had no idea my finger was broken steadily bruising steadily swelling until i sat down at the keyboard of this music competition. all i know is: there are three events in my life that i have no memories of despite being there at the time and one of them was that day, at the piano. my only memory is the very end when the judge approached me with a tissue box and i realized i was weeping. and they shook my hand, squeezing tightly my broken bone as i sobbed. i don’t know what the conclusion to draw from this is besides even these days i sit down to play piano and i weep and when they said become an artist i never realized that i’d one day wake up with no knowledge of where the artist ends and i begin.
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