Keep the Faith
Dear Hero
Dear Gerard,
I don't really know how to begin, so I'll just go ahead and to hell with what comes out.
I can't really say I've looked up to you the moment I saw you. It wasn't even close, but then again I've come a long way. I hope you're not offended when I say this, but it seemed as if you were just another scary-looking rocker that wore too much make-up, like you wanted to be dead too much and failed miserably at it.
Are you pissed? A part of me says you may be, and another suggests you may even be amused and you're smiling right now. But I can't really now, can I? I don't really know you, and maybe this is all it's about.
People say you've changed. They say you no longer care about us, not really, and all you're after now is the fame and money and glory. I mean, everyone's after that anyway and I don't see how it's any different, but I guess for them that's beside the point.
They say you've stopped wanting to save lives and began just wanting to live one that's fantastic for you. I don't see anything wrong with that, because you do deserve it, and that's where everything becomes blurry.
Because you see, I don't think you've changed that much. Not really. I look at you and still see the man whose life story gave me hope and inspiration and a reason to stay alive. I've read your biography in so many different places and it took me a while to realize the depth of the things that happened to you, but when I did I finally found the only thing I can turn to when everything has gone so wrong. You made me want to be like you, to make a difference, and you mean that much to me.
You probably get that a lot by now, and maybe that's when it began to sound tired and overused and now you fail to see the meaning in them, but I do mean it, even if you may not believe it anymore.
You still never fail to amaze me, time and time again. You up there and give out your all in every performance you do, despite the lies and rumors people are spreading about you. Are they lies? I don't know know and maybe I don't mind. It may seem foolish but you know what? Maybe you did change.
Maybe you're not that same guy who told us that we should be ourselves no matter what everyone else thinks. Maybe you finally began to think that beauty really is just skin deep and women are just fucktoys you play with, with no other worth or value. Maybe you only keep performing because of the money you'll get and maybe you now love the media and attention a little too much. Maybe your head is already so big that you no longer see us fans as your friends, but little peasants who happen to adore you. Maybe you are a monster. Maybe you've become the madman you always embody when you go onstage. Maybe there's no more point in fighting for you and defending you against the attacks everyone's launching for your non-benefit. Maybe you aren't who you were anymore. Maybe the world has changed you beyond the appearance and experience. maybe we've lost you forever and it's our own damn fault anyway.
But for some reason I don't care anymore. It's kinda like how a mother would still love her child even if he turns out to be a serial rapist-killer and goes to jail, or how you'd still love your dog no matter how many times he'd bite you when he's mad. Strange calling you a son or a pet but honestly that's how it feels. Because when you truly love someone and in the end they make mistakes and don't look back past the point of no return, you don't forget what they were to you.
You don't forget all the times that person made you smile or helped you more than you even thought possible or brightened up your day when no one else could or would. By making you happy just by being there.
Just like how I won't forget how you taught me to believe, to believe that there is still something to live for when everything else says the opposite. To keep trying and being passionate even if it all seems senseless because no one is going to listen or care anyway. You showed me that I can have my own darkness and it's okay, and you didn't tell me I was wrong or misled by thinking the way I did.
Maybe that's why I spent hours on the computer hunting for your videos or pictures and smiling at just a glimpse of you. Why I had to listen to your voice when you sing your songs or else I couldn't go through the day. Why I long to meet you or even give anything to just see you in concert. Why I'm even bothering to write you this letter and why I still insist on calling you hero, even if everyone else laughs and thinks it's stupid or ridiculous one way or another. Why I'll still die for you.
I owe you so much I can't even ponder how much love and thankfulness I feel for you; I never knew I was capable of feeling something so great an emotion and maybe that's what it truly means to love. Love is real, and love is love no matter what happens, no matter what anyone says.
So maybe you changed. But even that simple fact won't convince me to stop looking up to you as an inspiration, as redemption. Because faith, hope and love never dies, and maybe heroes never do too.
XOXO,
Isabel Dominique
I'm missing your laugh, how did it break?
And when did your eyes begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy as you're pretending...
I don't really know how to begin, so I'll just go ahead and to hell with what comes out.
I can't really say I've looked up to you the moment I saw you. It wasn't even close, but then again I've come a long way. I hope you're not offended when I say this, but it seemed as if you were just another scary-looking rocker that wore too much make-up, like you wanted to be dead too much and failed miserably at it.
Are you pissed? A part of me says you may be, and another suggests you may even be amused and you're smiling right now. But I can't really now, can I? I don't really know you, and maybe this is all it's about.
People say you've changed. They say you no longer care about us, not really, and all you're after now is the fame and money and glory. I mean, everyone's after that anyway and I don't see how it's any different, but I guess for them that's beside the point.
They say you've stopped wanting to save lives and began just wanting to live one that's fantastic for you. I don't see anything wrong with that, because you do deserve it, and that's where everything becomes blurry.
Because you see, I don't think you've changed that much. Not really. I look at you and still see the man whose life story gave me hope and inspiration and a reason to stay alive. I've read your biography in so many different places and it took me a while to realize the depth of the things that happened to you, but when I did I finally found the only thing I can turn to when everything has gone so wrong. You made me want to be like you, to make a difference, and you mean that much to me.
You probably get that a lot by now, and maybe that's when it began to sound tired and overused and now you fail to see the meaning in them, but I do mean it, even if you may not believe it anymore.
You still never fail to amaze me, time and time again. You up there and give out your all in every performance you do, despite the lies and rumors people are spreading about you. Are they lies? I don't know know and maybe I don't mind. It may seem foolish but you know what? Maybe you did change.
Maybe you're not that same guy who told us that we should be ourselves no matter what everyone else thinks. Maybe you finally began to think that beauty really is just skin deep and women are just fucktoys you play with, with no other worth or value. Maybe you only keep performing because of the money you'll get and maybe you now love the media and attention a little too much. Maybe your head is already so big that you no longer see us fans as your friends, but little peasants who happen to adore you. Maybe you are a monster. Maybe you've become the madman you always embody when you go onstage. Maybe there's no more point in fighting for you and defending you against the attacks everyone's launching for your non-benefit. Maybe you aren't who you were anymore. Maybe the world has changed you beyond the appearance and experience. maybe we've lost you forever and it's our own damn fault anyway.
But for some reason I don't care anymore. It's kinda like how a mother would still love her child even if he turns out to be a serial rapist-killer and goes to jail, or how you'd still love your dog no matter how many times he'd bite you when he's mad. Strange calling you a son or a pet but honestly that's how it feels. Because when you truly love someone and in the end they make mistakes and don't look back past the point of no return, you don't forget what they were to you.
You don't forget all the times that person made you smile or helped you more than you even thought possible or brightened up your day when no one else could or would. By making you happy just by being there.
Just like how I won't forget how you taught me to believe, to believe that there is still something to live for when everything else says the opposite. To keep trying and being passionate even if it all seems senseless because no one is going to listen or care anyway. You showed me that I can have my own darkness and it's okay, and you didn't tell me I was wrong or misled by thinking the way I did.
Maybe that's why I spent hours on the computer hunting for your videos or pictures and smiling at just a glimpse of you. Why I had to listen to your voice when you sing your songs or else I couldn't go through the day. Why I long to meet you or even give anything to just see you in concert. Why I'm even bothering to write you this letter and why I still insist on calling you hero, even if everyone else laughs and thinks it's stupid or ridiculous one way or another. Why I'll still die for you.
I owe you so much I can't even ponder how much love and thankfulness I feel for you; I never knew I was capable of feeling something so great an emotion and maybe that's what it truly means to love. Love is real, and love is love no matter what happens, no matter what anyone says.
So maybe you changed. But even that simple fact won't convince me to stop looking up to you as an inspiration, as redemption. Because faith, hope and love never dies, and maybe heroes never do too.
XOXO,
Isabel Dominique
I'm missing your laugh, how did it break?
And when did your eyes begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy as you're pretending...