Oct 15, 2014
I knew a boy in high school. All he wanted to do was sing. When he sang, you could hear joy and desperation. When he sang, you knew he didn’t care about much else. He’d sing and he’d sing, and none of us had the heart to tell him he couldn’t even carry a tune, because how do you look someone in the eye and destroy everything he lives for? Sometimes I think of the boy and his voice and I wonder if people read my words and shrivel on the inside and don’t have the heart to tell me I’ll never be a writer, because they can’t just look me in the eye and destroy everything I live for.
(via orlansky)
