Prologue: Decker
I’ve been sitting here all day willing myself to drum out any beat I can think of. We have a new album to work on and yet I can’t come up with shit.
I can’t do this anymore.
My head is pounding after spending a whole night getting wasted and smoking just to numb myself. Hell I had chicks all over me last night but everything was just a blur I couldn’t get it up if I tried.
I see the way my band mates look at me like I’m pathetic. I feel like any day now they will replace me for someone new. I know I’m out of control but I can’t seem to care or put an end to things.
Everyone thinks this lifestyle is a blessing but I’m sick of the groupies and everyone telling us what to play and how to dress to get our records to sell. I miss the days we spent playing for fun in all the dive bars.
I’m also tired of being alone.
They don’t tell you its a lonely once you get to the top but the fall is fast and a hard one so for now I’ll just sit here and drink my ass off. One day I’ll sober up just not today...
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Thank you to anyone who reads this :) This is my first time posting this story anywhere. It’s not completely finished but I’m hoping to stay motivated & finally wrap this thing up. Feel free to leave me some comments & follow if you want.
