Music Stories And Art Stories

All my life, been waging war in my mind, been waiting for something right, been waiting for sun to shine. Apathy, the friend of my enemy. Another blind visionary. I never cry, but I bleed. Tell me, what does it feel like to feel anything again? I know that it takes time, but this never ends, and I'm starting to realize: The glass half empty's been just a way to be baptized in the taste of your own medicine. Don't tell mom. Tell her it's just a song. Tell her I'm holding on. I'm sorry I missed her call. What this wasn't what I wanted? Can I return the life I've started? Just 14 years, and I'm exhausted. Guess we're calling this normal. Tell me, what does it feel like to feel anything again? I know that it takes time, but this never ends, and I'm starting to realize: The glass half empty's been just a way to be baptized in the taste of your own medicine. And I call it a cry for help. You call it song lyrics. But as long as I force a smile, I guess we'll just ignore it. I just hope that someday, someone will love me.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

(song: Safe & Sound by Taylore Swift, it's the only song i like by her, go listen to it if you need comfort :3)

“Goodnight, mom,” I whispered into the darkness.

“Goodnight, my dear,” I saw the door open, the light from the hall momentarily pouring in, then the door closed, locking me in darkness once again.

Despite all that had happened that day, I was asleep before long.

----------

I opened my eyes, but I wasn’t in my bedroom. Rather, I was somewhere... else. Somewhere very else indeed.

I shut my eyes. I waited for my mind to calm down. Then I opened them again. I took a look at my surroundings.

I was in a place. Where this place was, I had no idea. But the whole place seemed strangely familiar. The floor was a checkerboard of white, red, yellow, blue, and green tiles. There were large white pillars every few feet. And the feeling the place gave me... a shiver ran down my spine. It felt temporary, like I wasn’t supposed to be there too long.

Well. If I was supposed to get going, I supposed I would.

I started wandering aimlessly, trying to find a door, but the space seemed to never end despite the fact that I could see the walls on either side of me and behind me. I walked and walked for maybe ten minutes.

I started to feel fatigued. Suddenly, something felt... off. Something was shifting in the universe. Something told me I’d been there too long.

I blinked. Before me was a door that definitely had not been there before. Hesitantly, I turned the knob. I pushed the door open.

Before me was a hallway. It looked like one you'd find in a hotel, except I couldn’t see an end. The corridor was poorly lit, and the walls lined with doors. None of them had handles.

This place gave me a weird feeling, just like the first had: I’ve been here before, this is temporary, don’t stay for too long. But it also felt kind of... in-between, like it was there and nowhere at the same time. Like a threshold between... realities.

I felt the sudden urge to get to the end of the hallway. Part of me wanted to act on that. But another part of me said to turn around and go back to the other place. And yet another part was telling me to...

Wake up?

I shook my head and started walking.

And I walked.

And walked.

A n d w a l k e d.

Andwalkedandwalkedandwalkedandwalkedand-

I reached the end.

Finally.

There was a door not unlike the one I’d come through. I reached out to turn the knob, to get out, finally. There was a sense of finality to this door, like it was the last.

But right before I put my hand on the knob, I stopped.

Froze.

Listened.

To a little voice in my head.

My curiosity.

What’s behind the other doors? I wondered.

I backtracked a few. One of the doors felt right. I stopped. I faced it.

Like all the other doors, it had no handle. But it was also different from the others. It seemed... familiar. And I knew I’d seen it before.

The door to my old house.

Hesitantly, I raised a hand. I knocked on the door. Exactly the same rhythm as I always used to knock on doors. Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap.

The door swung open.

I stepped inside.

I stumbled.

The room was familiar. It was my room, the one I’d had as a kid, before my family fell apart. I’d had that room until I was five, then my mom moved out, and then my dad moved out, and the house was sold.

I walked through the room, my room, in awe. I felt safe. Everything was as I remembered. It was a small room. Model airplanes hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. The comforter was Cars 2 themed. The only light came from my favorite car lamp. It lit the small space surprisingly well. The desk across from the bed, the one I’d called my “work desk” was the same.

Everything was exactly the same.

Except...

On the desk sat a colouring book and a box of crayons, fresh and new. I flipped through the colouring book. Cars. My favourite thing when I was five. I sat at the desk and started colouring. After a while I was hungry. I looked around.

On the bed was a plate that held a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of ranch dressing for dipping. Next to it was a juice box. Grape juice. My favourite meal as a kid.

That hadn’t been there before.

I stood up and picked up the plate and juice box. I carried it back to the desk and continued colouring as I ate.

Vaguely I wondered whether I should probably find my way home.

But I was home.

Safe away from the pains of the real world, I could be five years old forever in my five-year-old bedroom.

And I was content with that.

----------

In the real world, the world outside the boy’s mind, everything went on as normal. The boy went to school, came home, ate his food, switched between parents, all as he normally would.

But now, he did so with a dreamy, faraway look on his face. Like he wasn’t really there.

Nobody at school noticed. To them, the boy was being his usual weird self. They avoided him, as they’d always done.

Then a new kid came. He was nervous. He didn’t know anybody.

The new kid saw the boy. Thought he might be nice. Decided to introduce himself.

“H-hey,” the new kid said. “My name’s Bowie. I’m new. What’s your name?”

The boy looked at the new kid with the same, dreamy, faraway look.

“My name is _ _ _ _ _.”

I'm in my 20's... I'm living my life and I have sorta been in a rut. But then I thought... Why not try something I used to live again🥹🙏🏻✨!! I used to play the djembe drum from 4th grade to my 2nd year of college. But I took a break due to my mother's cancer journey. Now I've moved and I have the means, time, and energy... I wanna get back into one of my former passions🎶. I am a little worried that I'm rusty... Since it's been a fair amount of time since I've banged a drum🫠. It's been a year and a half to be exact😑. I'll be going to the Las Vegas Drum show and I'm so pumped to get my very own djembe drum... Since I used to only use the ones school and college provided🪘😅.

Any... It's never too late to start an old passion... Nor is it too late to start a new passion🥰!!

Wish me luck🍀!!

Also, I just wanted to ask but, I hope that no one thinks I'm culturally appropriating the African culture by playing this amazing instrument🪘. I'm East Asian, and I grew up with all sorts of different music from Latin music, Hispanic music, East Asian traditional music from China, Korea, Japan, etc, European classical, Native American music, and more. I just love the art of it all, and I have the highest respect for all cultures who've put in the time, effort, and passion into their art!! Just wanted to put the disclaimer out there for those who sometimes get triggered by cultural appropriation☺️🙏🏻✨.

ok, I'm really pissed at my band teacher right now. Today, she asked the flutes (that's what I play) to play together just us right as I was yawning, so I didn't end up playing because I was busy yawning. She said something along the lines of: "Ok, I'm about to cut you about of the performance. You are never ready, and it's usually you missing the most notes." AND SHE SAID THIS TO ME. Me, who never misses a note. Like, no way she said I'M the one who's never ready when there's those two girls next to me who don't put their flutes up until the last second. She just blamed all their bad notes and unreadiness on ME. I've been a scapegoat my whole life, band was my only safe place where I knew I was good as everyone else, maybe better, and everyone took the blame for their own shit. It was the one place where I didn't have to have a million fingers pointing at me. Not anymore I guess.

so yeah

I write songs sometimes

on the way home from after schol band practice yesterday

I came up with a song in my mom's car lol.

I only have most of the chorus

I need to know:

1: is it good?

2: what line should I add to finish the chorus?

It's in the style of like, think Three Days Grace or Linkin Park

here it is:

"And all the colours fade to black

I can't keep going forward, but I can't turn back,

I'm conflicted,

I am stuck,

I'm so sick of feeling numb,"

So that's it

I need another line but idk what to put

and I have no verses either but I'll figure that out myself lol

I have been going through this creative burnout for the beginning of the Covid experience. And lately it is taking a lot out of me to try to do anything creative. Because mostly half the time trying to figure out where to put my little figures or find a great picture landscape It’s hard because there’s so many other people, and they might look at you. Funny when you have little objects with you. Also, there’s other people who tried to help but interferes with your creative mind. Plus you get interruptions a lot. Is there anyone who knows about creative burnout to overcome it or help ease out of it because it is exhausting and I don’t know what to do next for my pictures.

so lately i've been OBSESSED with this guy Noah Kahan

so I took one of my fav songs by it and made my own version of it

if you've heard the song you'll probably notice I kept a few of my fav lines the same cuz they're too good to alter :P

the song I redid was You're Gonna Go Far

and I have no idea if my version is good or not lol

so here it is:

I never ever felt so damn sorry

As when I saw you drive away after screaming,

"I never ever want to see you again"

I regret all that I said

This is good land, or at least it was

It takes a strong hand and a sound mind

All our kids are gettin’ so old, aint they?

They’ve been leaving out of town, like they can’t wait

Half don’t even live in the same state

If they got an appointment, they’ll be late

This is good land, or at least it was

It takes a strong hand and a sound mind

I never smile, but I know when I get rough,

Ooh, you got enough

Ooh, you got enough where you are

And while I yell and scream across the yard

Ooh, you'll be far

Ooh, you'll be far, far from here

So, you packed up your car, I put my hand on your heart

I said, “This is what you want,

But you ain’t gonna get far”

But I ain't angry at you, love

You're the greatest thing I've lost

The water still flows, the sun will still shine,

And everyone knows

One day, we’ll all die

I ain't angry at you, love

I’m just waitin’ for you, love

And I’m always here forever

And I’m always here forever

I sure am

My heart’s been achin’ since you left

Thinkin’ ‘bout what I said

“You know, you won’t go nowhere.”

But you know I’ve, you know I’ve been livin' just to die

You told me you would make a difference

Well, I got drunk and shut you down

It won't be by your own volition

If you step foot outside this town

But it's all we need

For always

So, you packed up your car, I put my hand on your heart

I said, “This is what you want,

But you ain’t gonna get far”

But I wasn’t angry at you, love

You were the greatest thing I've lost

The water still flowed, the sun still shined

And still, we all know, someday, we’ll all die

I wasn't angry at you, love

Was just waitin' for you, love

And I’ll still be here forever

And I'll still be here forever

You know, you went far!

You know, you went far!

You know, you went far!

You know, you went far!

Yes, you did (ooh)

If you wanna go (go) far

Then you gotta go (go) far

I think I like most music... But I can't really tell. I usually adjusted to the music other people liked. Or I simply was too afraid to stand up for the music that I actually liked.

I remember being in elementary school and I saw my first K-pop video... I can't remember who they were, but this girl who seemed to be nice wanted to share her interest in music... K-pop. I was young and honestly pretty stupid back then... And scoffed at her saying it wasn't real music... She then said, if you don't like the music, at least look at the cute boys... I looked, I blushed and the lied and said..."they're not my type"... And that was a forking lie!! I have sinned! I love K-pop now... But I was again, very stupid and judgemental back in my tiny-tot days.

My favorite group is Stray Kids... But my mom would always mistake them for Stray Cats🤣!! If any K-pop came on the radio, my mom would be like... "Is this the Stray Cats"😂!? Mew😹! At some point I just agreed that my favorite K-pop group was officially Stray Cats whenever I was with my mom!

My favorite songs from them mostly consist of their Oddinary album. But I like the song Railway, Red Lights, and Drive... Yes, my brain is sludge and I need to touch grass... So what🤪! Railway's music video kinda creeped me out though... Since it seemed to have a horror theme to it. I respect the horror genre, but I would've readily watch it willingly... Unless it's Stray Kids(Stray Cats)!

Alexa doesn't seem to register when is say..."Alexa"..."play Stray Kids Oddinary Album". She doesn't seem to understand that Oddinary is an original word by Stray Kids(Stray Cats). So I have to manually tell her the title and group I want her to play for me😭! But get this... She understands what Maxident is! Or was it Maxidant? I can't remember the spelling?

I don't know if I like art? I always thought I did. But whenever I'm around real art fans, I just feel like an uneducated potato. And I honestly don't wanna hear the stories behind art or their meanings. I simply enjoy the way they look. If they bring any feeling to me without any description or knowledge given to me. But again, being around art buffs... It's not easy to make conversation with them when they seem to wanna talk about the artists, or their techniques, or the meaning behind a certain piece of art. I just like to look at it. Plain and simple.

I'm genuinely so glad that I started to get into art. I was making a new piece everyday, but with my mental health decline, I got burnt out. Same thing with mancala. But as of late, I have been making new art pieces and playing mancala again. I'm really happy with myself for making time for the things I enjoy most :)

Recently, I moved into my first apartment, which has given me the exciting chance to personalize my living space. My mom, an incredibly talented artist with a knack for creating fantasy settings inspired by ancient Greece, painted something special for my brother and me. The painting showcases a teenage prince and princess, presumably siblings, engaged in a playful sparring session. Unique to her art and reflective of ancient Greek influences, the siblings are depicted without shirts, symbolizing equality and a different norm of modesty.

This artwork, filled with sentimental value, holds a place of honor in my apartment's main room. The painting not only captures her artistic skill but also represents a nod to cultural storytelling and historical norms.

However, not long ago, my grandparents and my young cousin, who's just 13, came to visit. I hadn't considered that the painting might be seen as controversial, so I didn't think to remove or cover it. Upon seeing the painting, my grandmother was outraged, labeling it as inappropriate. She expressed severe disapproval, saying it was wrong to display such an image, and even had my cousin wait outside in the car. She pressured me to hide the painting immediately.

Conflicted and taken aback by her strong reaction, I stood my ground. The tension escalated into a full-blown argument as I felt judged in my own home. Her reaction made me question if I was wrong to hang the painting so prominently without considering different perspectives on decency.

Now, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show, where every dispute and dramatic moment is magnified for entertainment. How might the viewers react to such a family quarrel over a piece of art? Would the public side with my freedom to display any art I choose in my own home, or would they agree with my grandmother's more conservative views on what is deemed appropriate? The inclusion of cameras and an audience could potentially intensify the family dynamics, turning a personal disagreement into a spectacle that challenges both personal and cultural boundaries.

What do you think - was it inappropriate for me to display such art in my home, or should personal freedom in one's living space remain unchallenged?

Glad to be here for this little anonymous confession... I don't want to talk about that with people I know!

I have this friend, Elise, who’s incredibly talented with the brush – her artwork is usually breathtaking. So, naturally, when our first wedding anniversary was approaching, I thought why not commission her to create a portrait of me and my husband in our wedding attire? It seemed like the perfect gift. Her portraits are usually so lifelike and beautiful, and she agreed to take the project for $700. Upfront, I paid a $300 deposit and sent her several photos as references.

Yesterday, Elise came over to show me the finished painting, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. My husband looked fantastic, exactly like himself, but the way she painted me was shocking. It was as if she completely changed my body – magnifying features in a way that was blatantly sexualized. My typically small bust was exaggerated, and my wedding dress was altered to reveal a lot more skin, even including a thigh-high slit that was never in the original design. None of this was in the reference photos I provided; it doesn’t represent how I looked at all on my wedding day.

I felt really uncomfortable with the portrayal and told her straight away that this wasn’t what I signed up for. I said I wouldn’t pay the remaining balance unless she revised the painting. She didn’t take it well and we ended up having a massive argument. Elise accused me of being unreasonable, and now, our disagreement has spilled over among our circle of friends. Some think I’m making too much of it, while others agree that the artist stepped over the line.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show – how intensified the drama would be under the scrutinizing eye of the public and with cameras rolling constantly! Viewers would be split; some might argue I overreacted about artistic interpretation, while others might empathize with the shock of seeing oneself misrepresented so starkly. The tension would likely escalate with each side arguing their perspective, possibly even leading to a dramatic confrontation filled with tears and tense exchanges. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, after all.

What should be done about the portrait issue? How would you manage that?

I have this friend, Carly, who’s 23 and we've been tight ever since our freshman days back in high school. She’s been chasing her musical dreams in LA lately. Carly always had a knack for writing; she even got her degree from a reputable private liberal arts college in California, majoring in Creative Writing. Most of us who know her well were betting she’d go into songwriting. However, Carly decided to take on singing instead. She's already dropped three singles and has an album in the pipeline, but honestly, they're just not good. Her vocal timbre really doesn’t cut it—it’s rather flat and nasal, plus she has this odd way of modulating her pitch. Watching her perform live is even more of a struggle. The crowd of friends she's made in LA keep cheering her on, telling her she’s phenomenal. I’m just worried about how far their praises will carry her before someone in the business pulls the plug and tells her straight up, “you can’t sing.”

What worries me more is thinking what if she ever ended up on one of those reality singing shows? Like, imagine her getting up there with that same supportive crowd, only to face the harsh critiques from seasoned judges in front of a national audience. Could you just imagine the humiliation? It’s hard enough seeing her wade through local gigs, but that level of exposure and raw feedback could really break her.

How does one deal with this? Is it kinder to let her keep dreaming while everyone around nods and smiles, or would a true friend intervene before the reality becomes too painful? Waiting it out seems like watching a ticking time bomb. Is sitting back really the answer?

I’m a 52-year-old woman, and I’m dealing with a tricky family issue involving my brother-in-law, Mark, who's 59, and his wife, Linda, who's 35. Mark fully finances Linda’s burgeoning art career, supporting her while she devotes herself to becoming an artist. Linda mainly paints portraits and animals and has established a website to showcase and sell her artwork.

To be honest, I don't find Linda's artwork very appealing. While it’s certainly better than anything I could create, it doesn’t strike me as particularly professional. My husband shares this opinion, hence we've never bought any of her pieces, even though she often hints that we should.

Most of her artworks are tagged at $3,000 to $5,000 — a range that seems steep to me considering the artistic quality. It looks like she doesn’t sell much because she’s started gifting portraits of family members or their pets, catching them off guard and then they feel compelled to purchase these pieces. Recently, it was our turn to face this tactic.

After my son got engaged, we celebrated with a dinner, which was well-documented on social media. Unknown to us, Linda used one of those images to paint a large portrait. She unveiled this ‘surprise’ at a recent gathering, and I must admit, the painting did not appeal to me at all. It was quite overdone and not to my taste.

At the event, I appreciated her effort politely but remained non-committal about liking the artwork. During the night, she consistently hinted we could buy the painting as a wedding gift, even offering a “family discount”. Despite my evasive responses, her disappointment was palpable.

Later, Mark called my husband to express Linda's hurt feelings over us not purchasing the painting, emphasizing how meaningful it would be for them if we did. She dropped her price to $1,900 from the original $2,500.

This isn’t just about money. It’s about being pressured into buying something we neither need nor want. Even my son and his fiancée aren’t interested in keeping it. My husband suggests we purchase it to avoid family drama, even though he agrees with my sentiment. He also remarked that my viewpoint may come off as elitist, which I hadn’t intended. If I refuse to buy the painting, am I being unreasonable?

Imagine this situation playing out on a reality TV show. The tension and awkwardness would likely be magnified, with cameras capturing every reluctantly polite smile and each strained conversation. Viewers would probably be divided; some might sympathize with my refusal to spend a large sum on something I don’t appreciate, while others might see it as a small price to pay for family harmony.

Let me start by saying that I truly adore my girlfriend and deeply appreciate her dedication to her music. She has this band with her high school buddies and, sure, they're pretty good at what they do. Yet, truthfully, they're not making a living from it. They gig around at local pubs and the odd community event, and it's cool, but everyone's got to hold down a full-time job to keep the lights on.

I'm not knocking down her passion — I'm currently studying on a scholarship and also working part-time to manage the rent. My girlfriend is truly a sweetheart, but at times she seems a touch out of touch with reality.

This kind of came to the fore recently when we were hanging out with some friends. During our conversation, future career plans popped up, and my girlfriend, half-jokingly, said she might just make it big with her music so she doesn’t have to settle for a “proper” career. Everyone laughed, but it didn’t sit well with me.

When she noticed my reaction and questioned it, I couldn’t help but express that banking on her band as a career might be a bit far-fetched. Her music is great, don't get me wrong, but it's a tough industry. That comment seemed to dampen the mood, and though the topic was swiftly changed, she was noticeably distant for the rest of the evening.

I ended up leaving early as I had university classes the next morning, and when I said it was time to leave, she opted to stay back and crash at a friend’s. I messaged her later to check if she got there safe but got no reply. It's way past her usual curfew now and still nothing. I'm slightly annoyed because it feels immature to me. What I said was the hard truth, and she needs to face it sooner or later.

Imagining if this disagreement happened on a reality show, the reactions would be massively amplified for dramatic effect. Cameras would zoom on our expressions, catching every frown and wince, with tension-filled music swelling in the background. Perhaps in that context, our exchange would make for a pivotal, season-highlight moment — turning a mundane lovers’ spat into prime-time gold.

Now, I am lost... how to react?