My dream is simple, yet so complicated.
Let’s start with the complicated version.
I once received a gift, different from any gift I ever received. This gift wasn’t sent to me personally ally and it was three years old, brand new to me and I needed it. The gift wasn’t send from anyone I knew, instead it as sent from three American men, for anyone who would hear it.
I remember when I received it. New years eve 2007. I was 11 at that point and I was spending new years eve with my mother in a tiny village in South Sweden named Grönahult.
I laid next to my mother in her dark bedroom, she’d been asleep for what felt like forever. I was on my phone looking for a new game. I didn’t find one, but instead I received a gift that would save my life.
Time went by and because of this gift I learnt how to say “no”. These men taught me how to stand up for myself, they made me feel valuable, like I could make a difference.
There were no adults that help me get away from my parents, no teachers, no friends, no family. It was my no that got me away from the violence at home. My no, that these three men taught me, saved me.
As I got older these men stuck with me. These men and what they do is still an important part of my life.
They taught me valuable lessons, I made friends, I got experiences, I learnt things.
They kept me alive, they kept me walking.
They gave me a family, they gave me so much.
And that is what I want to do. I want to help, to inspire. I want to make someone’s life better. I want to give someone hope. I want to be a person who never stops giving.
I want to share my music, my writing with the world, with the one who needs it.
Short version:
I want to be a well known musician and songwriter.
These three men I’m talking about are Green Day. Green Day are today Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, Tré Cool and Jason White.
I’m on the path of reaching my dreams.
I play drums and I write everything I possibly can.
But then of course we have another view of it. An insecurity, a self-hatred, that keeps me from any progress. I can play, but I get insecure and start blaming myself when I try something new or when I play with or for others. In fact playing by myself is hard enough. I have to repeatedly tell myself “I can do this” only to play in an empty house.
It got better since I got home, but instead I realized a mistake that got me to write this.
I sent in an application to a school about the music classes, 50% high school and 50% music.
I messed up the application by naming the email wrong. The application was due May the 1st, then days ago.
I didn’t know how to manage the situation, so I thought I was going to do what I always do, write.
I thought I was going to explain what music means to me, but words never seem to be enough.
“Music to me is the air that I breathe, it’s the blood that pumps through my veins that keeps me alive” – Billie Joe Armstrong
Shadowanie - About the girl who became me. 