After the collapse of my Floridian experience, I returned back to New York City, feeling that familiar electricity in the air that had always ignited my creativity. I picked up exactly where I left off, recording acoustic covers in my bedroom, the very space that had served as my launchpad and sanctuary. While still on a high from the views I was getting on previous videos, something told me that this energy could be harnessed into something bigger. I was looking for the right chord to strike, the right tempo to set. Inspiration came in the form of the Smashing Pumpkins model, and my fingers danced over the strings as I attempted The Strokes. As soon as the video was up, comments came flooding in, inquiring about the chord structure and tabs. My heart raced as I read each one, realizing that the general public was becoming more and more interested in how I was able to transpose this record to my own liking. Me, the guy who was never taught professionally, who never learned “the right way” how to play guitar. I literally hit the notes until it made sense, feeling them in my soul rather than reading them on paper. It was a song that only die-hard Strokes fans knew about, and it was surreal to see how their fanbase came flocking to this particular video. Perhaps it was the authenticity in my rendition, or maybe it was the raw passion that transcended the screen. I knew that this was special. This would become the last video post I made before diving headfirst into the scene and booking my first official acoustic show in New York City. The days leading up to the show were a whirlwind of excitement and fear, a cocktail that I knew too well. Yet, this was different; it was a sober thrill, fueled by pure ambition. In this short amount of time, I had gotten a small taste of the spotlight, and it was intoxicating in its own right. My mind was a constant symphony of thoughts, each one a note that built upon the last. I knew it would be a matter of time before it consumed me.

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