I Hate Myself...

Did I look that good? No. Was I that cool? For God's sake, no; I couldn't even look at the fucking audience. But I sang that shit, I was in key the whole time, I didn't trip or fall, and I got to sing with my dad. It was fucking amazing. Just watching him play renders me speechless, but actually getting to sing with him is the most amazing feeling in the world. I hadn't actually done it for a few years, in front of people like that. Dean was there and was proud of me, which was amazing. And my friends, God bless them, screamed for me before they even know what I'd sound like...and told me I was good when I was done, which had a tremendous effect on my ego. I found it nearly impossible to stop smiling all night. Ah music, glorious music. Is there anything better? Has there ever been anything better? Honestly...I can't think of anything. It is the great equalizer, the only true international language. What else can make someone cry and laugh and scream and tear their hair out all at the same time? If I could have stayed up there all night, I would have. No wonder the old man does it for a living. My God, getting paid at the end of it?! What fuck must that be like?!