Blind

Chapter 1- Growing up

Growing up was pretty hard. Because of my issues It was a challenge to learn and my mother gave everything she had. However I learnt to love and respect. I've never had an interest in academic areas like my mother;  a lawyer wanted me to. My father also entered the medical profession and that's probably what they expect of me. I want to sing, music is my life and I call it home, that's wear my soul feels safe and happiest the most.

"Well you have time to think about it, but we know the best for you." Mum had said in that monotone she always used with me.

"Mum I know what I want, I want to be around music! Just because I'm fuckin blind doesn't mean you need to treat me like a baby, I can get my own way around. Just stop." I had practically stormed out; tasting that overwhelming stinch of dissapoint flowing to the pit of my stomach as I went past her.  But It's my life.

I had ran to my room, on the ground floor obviously as my over protective mother had wanted, to my only friend in the world.

Fifi.

FIfi was a trained dog that mum and dad had gotten for me, for the blind. She is great, we always take walks together to this day, to a little park a few roads away. She always took me to a peaceful place. I knew after the first few times it was always the same place. The same fresh salty smell of flowing water nearby, and the mushy ground beneath my feet. She always stopped and there we would sit, a fairly dry area. It was where the sun shone, I knew this much as the sweet heat seeped to my skin as I sat there. The place was quite,  but there was always a presence there I felt, a strong  force hoovering above me, sometimes it was so overwhelming I would break down and cry, cry until my eyes dried out. The feeling was astonishing, so sweet and warm, so natural and kind,  and in that instant I knew it had to be a God. My family was never religious,  but the revelation I felt that day begged to differ. Since then I took my guitar with me, played a few harmonies from my heart; it was an utterly memorizing feeling. The beat would travel to my fingers and drum the 6 strings that I am so fond of. Me and God have a special relationship that way, and I know he listens to my little symphonies.  I always leave with a glowing warmth in my heart.

God and music have lead me a long way now. My mother also proud of my music. As are my fans.