Dodson Productions

This probably won’t come as a surprise to anyone, but music is the heartbeat of my entire life. Give me any piece of my life and I can tell you what song goes with it. I do that for other people, too.

But after a week of sickness and two cancelled concerts, I wonder if the happiness has truly pad off. I mean, I say it makes me happy. But it also makes me feel the most depressed I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I guess that’s not fully the music’s fault, the song just tends to tell my emotions more eloquently than I ever could. 

I write music, but it rarely sees the light of day. I’d much rather rewrite other people’s songs so I don’t have to get hung up on the instrumentation. The one thing I’ve never been good at when it comes to songwriting.

I want that moment though. I want that moment when someone hears a song I wrote and it clicks into their storyline the same way other artist’s have clicked in to mine. But that’s just the fantasy of my childhood. Nothing real about that. 

So instead I just sit here in my tiny little world and replay those same songs over and over again. Hear the same piano notes or guitar chords that are somehow able to put me in the same tailspin they put me in the first time. I sit. I listen. I hit repeat. And I realize just what kind of life has been bestowed upon me.

Not the life of a musician. But the life of a failed one. So I hit that damn repeat button one more time.