I was freshly nineteen and I wrote two songs that day, trying my hardest just to express myself in the only way that I knew how. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't say anything meaningful, anything worthwhile, anything even slightly revealing of the pain and the agony I always suffered through, of the anxiety and the constant self doubts.
One more time I'm going to try. One more time I'll try to find the sound to match how it feels inside.
Now ten years later as evidence of a lifetime's worth of doubt, of not fulfilling all those unspoken hopes and dreams, I offer to you, my anonymous confidant, the obvious lack inside of everything I produce. So here's to an honest attempt, for once to bare my sole, to put in the substance I've always hidden down.