I’ve been sober for a month now. Drugs used to be my constant reminder that everything in this world can look better. But oh my god the regrets would come crashing the walls I built myself. I can hear my friends laughing from another room, my brothers, my family. These damn people I cannot bear to lose. I looked at the ceiling, wishing I could fly, I told myself I will be better this time, but everything’s changing, though for the better, sometimes I cannot keep up. I cannot complain, though. I know this is what I was born for, last album was great, even the critics agree this time, them fuckers who only see what they want to see. But who am I to blame? I feel like I’m just starting, reborn every moment, yet I feel old like I had too much for a lifetime. I smiled, here I am again. I went out. Bottles, music everywhere, this is life. So much has changed yet so much remained the same, and here I am feeling strange in the middle. But the money, it’s always about the money isn’t it? I hope it isn’t but damn, it is.
“Okay, everyone” I cleared my throat. Everyone looked at me, high as the Empire State of Mind. “Tonight, we will celebrate life. As fleeting as it is, we should at least devote something to one night of music and celebration – not that we don’t do that all the time” Everyone’s looking at me, I know I looked like a fool but they say those who are fools are the ones who are alive, so tonight I live. “You’ve been with me from the start, from home made videos, to late night mumbles and shitty demos, and when we have nothing. Now, we have everything and I promise you will not have nothing again.” Absurd as it is, some of the girls are crying I went on. “So tonight, I just want to say thank you to my friends, and my family.” I raised my beer bottle and everyone did too. And these are the things that media won’t know, not that I want them to. These moments are mine, and I will keep them on the center of my brain and heart. Damn.
After a while, I went inside my room, fiddled with my piano, made some random tunes, when one of the dudes entered my room.
“Bro, you okay?” he said,
“High as the sky” I answered, grinned widely, I feel happy, oddly calm like I just figured the secret of the universe.
“I just want you to know that we are thankful and that you have our back all the time.”
I hugged him.
“Thanks man. We be makin songs, forever.” I said.
Some of them went home one by one, I guess there were two or three who will stay overnight, which I don’t mind. They do it all the time, besides, they’re more than just neighbors, they’re fam.
My phone rung, just an Instagram notification, clicked it one hand on the phone other hand on the cigarette. Another hate, another post about her. I don’really know if I still love her anymore, but maybe, when you’re too high, everything’s fragile and so looking at her face, I suddenly fell on the ground. I don’t know why I did it, I don’t know why i lingered. The media sucks, I had other bitches before, but maybe music really is so divine. Like she is. A goddess incarnate. And I wanted her, she wanted me, she kept me grounded, it ruined her and in turn she had to leave, it ruined me, seeing her face on the steering wheel I didn’t want to touch it. Fuck.
I went outside to the living room. I see her everywhere in this haunted house, her hair down, baking cookies, making her high as her iconic ponytail. Her scent smells like clouds, she gets along with everyone and no one. I wish I had more time, I wish I can stay as steady , so chill, but we be fightin when I am and out of her life, so did I end it? Did she end it? Who knows anymore. The people knows a lot than I can ever know, not that any of it is true.
“We’ll be all right, okay?” I said.
“We’ll be.” she said quietly, stifling a cry. “Keep in touch”
I stashed of drugs left on the sofa has been left. Unlit, unused, i put it in my pocket, the poison, so that no one will see. Just like what I do with the toxic, I put it in a song so that no one will be hurt. I played her song, make it seem like a joke but it hits me, it always does.
“I don’t want to wake up..” she sings, painful words, in honey like voice, maybe this is what heaven feels like.
I didn’t notice one of the guys are filming me, I stopped him, we fooled around some more. After a while, I said my good night, went inside my room.
Money, dreams, heaven, hell.
Am I pushed to this? Or do I only want to make music. 7th of September – what is this for?
I played one of my song, in vinyl, recorded it and sent it to social media just like every social pyscho, but I am proud, I am not ashamed to say I am proud. Smoked some more, I suddenly had a vision of heaven, so I got high, got my palms on my pocket lit everything up, never countin’ how much, not desperate, just want to see how this goes. And a minute or so, I see it, swrills of light and voices, her laugh, my laugh, all laughter, I am happy, I am more than happy, so I smile. It goes on and on, I feel like I am holding up the universe in the palm of my hand and everyone be talking about me, not us, no, just you.
And so blood come pouring out of my nose, and I want to scream in fear, but I laugh, I cried out to God but no voice came. And I realized I am so tired, I am so so tired, and so i kneel. I am not the one to be satisfied, but I pray this time I will be. I will be. And tomorrow, if there is tomorrow, it goes on and on..
just like this darkness enveloping me, hugging me, and then finally, fucking finally. there’ s nothing. Finally.
***note: this is purely fiction, and does not intend any harm. I love Mac Miller and I sometimes think of what have been.