and i remember those mornings, driving in the stony roads passed those gates. earlier than everyone else. i knew where the key was. the one who would first enter those mornings. i always made it a point to come in early. i don't know why. and the keys did their job, the sights and sound being too familiar. i remember. i knew which light switch would hit the ones for the stage. i remember the stillness of the hall. in all its glory. in its sight and what it was were something which struck me every morning.

i remember. having to set up the equipment. to be there by myself - before everyone else.
to plug my equipment in. to have it tuned just the way i wanted it to. and then quiet. silence. once again.

i breathe and speak to you. to ask for you. to plead with you. to tell you sorry for this week. for the terrible things. to allow me to stand here on this stage to play for you. i remember.
and then to strum and play something in my head. and to let the music juices flow.
this is why and how you gave me such talents. i will remember.

i am on this journey in search of truth. joy. peace. serenity. escape.
in this journey, there will be found disappointment, sadness, despair, pain and anger.
all to which will make a wholesome adventure.
i must fear none besides the one who has decided on this adventure.

indeed, you watch over my coming and goings.
my adventures and perils. death that strikes and clouds of glory on high.
and as i watch myself fall into the pit, your arm stretches beyond me. to pull even the darkest of man from themselves into marvelous light.

you are the thunder in the ocean when waves crash into stone.
your fear brims like fire over these waters.
yet, in my ocean, you are safe

you are some kind of beautiful; although you may dream that you're not.

believe me.

an empty alley can be more beautiful than a crowded street.

there is always sky between buildings.
as there are cracks between walls.
and depth between the ocean is like winter after fall.