Those six words. Six little short, meaningless words. They hurt so much. It was like every time I thought of them I was half by half pulling the trigger pointing to my head. Why should I actually believe them? It was just words. You know, that story “sticks and stones…”. I tried thinking of it as words all the time, but they’re just stuck to the back of my head, and time to time they hit me with such power that I fell to the ground and I had to crawl to get somewhere. But then I realized – If they tell me I can’t, then I’m going to! From that day those six little words made me work harder. Play harder! I often played until my fingers bled and I didn’t care about anything else no longer. I didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, didn’t give a shit about school – ‘cause I was going to be something! I, compared to the others, was going to get somewhere! Not wasting my life on papers and numbers. A Rock star gets more money anyway. So now days I often dream myself back to the time when my folks and friends told me - You don’t have what it takes!

hur får du färg din spurk <3?