Goodbye Blue Sky
The Demise of an Artist
Darkness. It's taken all of us. No, I don't mean just me and the others in our band. I mean everyone who cares about out music, everyone who's ever even heard it. Those who love us, those who hate us. They all know. You know, too, or you wouldn't be reading this.
Darkness causes things to disappear. When you live in the same world I do, you know. Your soul begins to diminish every time night falls, only to be recreated when the sun rises. It's a half-existence, always lying on the brink of destruction like this. There's only ever been one person I could depend on, and if he were to leave, I would vanish completely. My little brother, Mikey, is the single thing tying me to this existence and keeping me from becoming part of the other one. If I had nothing else to care about, I would be gone. No one would ever see me again.
He stopped believing in me. I lost everything, every last one of my emotions, and began to fall into ruin. The sky I see now is not blue, but a dull, sick gray. As I write this, you should know it is likely one of the last few things I will be able to write, and I am sorry. My soul is deteriorating. I doubt I will have the will to continue much further, so I will get to the point quickly.
This intoxicating darkness has always been my source of inspiration, but now it's killing me. It's killing me like the fatal disease that sparked everything. I am not going to last much longer in this pathetic state. I feel...very...
...weak...
Goodbye blue sky. I have disappeared.
Darkness causes things to disappear. When you live in the same world I do, you know. Your soul begins to diminish every time night falls, only to be recreated when the sun rises. It's a half-existence, always lying on the brink of destruction like this. There's only ever been one person I could depend on, and if he were to leave, I would vanish completely. My little brother, Mikey, is the single thing tying me to this existence and keeping me from becoming part of the other one. If I had nothing else to care about, I would be gone. No one would ever see me again.
He stopped believing in me. I lost everything, every last one of my emotions, and began to fall into ruin. The sky I see now is not blue, but a dull, sick gray. As I write this, you should know it is likely one of the last few things I will be able to write, and I am sorry. My soul is deteriorating. I doubt I will have the will to continue much further, so I will get to the point quickly.
This intoxicating darkness has always been my source of inspiration, but now it's killing me. It's killing me like the fatal disease that sparked everything. I am not going to last much longer in this pathetic state. I feel...very...
...weak...
Goodbye blue sky. I have disappeared.