Pick Up The Radio

As I spent my days miserable inside of the warehouse, wondering what happened to my career in entertainment, where I went wrong in my marriage, and why I couldn’t get anything right, I thought back to the beginning, how I started in music all those years ago with Path To Orion. Playing acoustic covers in the bedroom of my mom’s house, singing along with the radio until I only heard one voice – mine. I turned up the volume on the radio, and no longer felt alone. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, when my passion for music was still raw and untamed, when every note I played seemed to hold the key to my future. I remembered the thrill of performing for the first time, my hands shaking on the strings of my guitar as I poured my heart out into the microphone. The applause and cheers that followed, the intoxicating feeling of having connected with an audience, had ignited a fire within me that I thought would never be extinguished. But as I stood in the warehouse, surrounded by the cold concrete walls and the oppressive silence, I realized that the fire had been snuffed out long ago. My life had become a series of mistakes, a downward spiral fueled by addiction and despair. Yet, despite the darkness that seemed to envelop me, I couldn’t help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could reignite that fire and find my way back to the person I once was. Determined to try, I decided to turn the empty warehouse into my rehearsal space, and spent my days singing along with pop tunes that played on the big speakers. The warehouse, once a prison of sorts, began to transform into a sanctuary. The echo of my voice reverberating through the vast space seemed to breathe life into the cold, lifeless walls, and with each song, I felt a spark of the passion I once had for music slowly returning. I belted out lyrics with reckless abandon, my voice cracking with emotion as I sang of love, loss, and redemption. My confidence grew, and so did my desire to reconnect with the world beyond the warehouse.