Being a supposed histrionic.

A not so long break from blogging, and I'm back. It's the semester break now, and I feel the impulse to write once again.

If you mingle with me to a degree long enough, you will realise that I demand attention. Deep down in this insecure person, I seek comfort in praises of people.

It's not something I would willingly admit to you as a reader. But I thought that it's time I acknowledge it somehow. I have this history to say rash things, make bold claims and do unusually outgoing things. I seek that attention.

That aside, I have not much to write any more. Maybe I feel the foreboding of the start of college, that I will do badly as the drummer I am now, still slow in progress.

But isn't that why musicians become what they are? No matter how relaxed they seem, even the good ones, it is because of the attention they thrive in. They like it, nay, we like it, the cheers, the claps and applause. It brings that much joy...

Until you screw up while performing... You become extra sensitive to criticism, you feel like you no longer have the right to continue as a musician... For a moment, everything crumbles on you...

Until everything shadows you... You feel as though you are always doomed to be the worst... Everything you've work for... Is no more than a pathetic attempt... To seek attention...