I have given up on being a decent singer.

And I’ll tell you why: 

I was never that great of a singer. Just because I kept singing doesn’t mean I was deluding myself. I did play violin for 8 years before I came to Winthrop, after all. I know music. 

I have not sang along to my iPod on a regular basis in over a year. Even when I’ve been at home alone. Life circumstances caused me to be silent, and the residue from those events have kept me that way. It’s left me an even worse singer than I was before. Even I can’t stand it. And because I’m so mentally and physically tired all the time, I’ve been unwilling to try again. Hm, I guess this goes a bit further than just my lupus symptoms affecting my head…

All my skills are things that don’t grab that much attention. Not many people want to sit there and watch someone draw (and it makes me uncomfortable really, ha), and the band always overshadowed the string orchestra. I guess I always wanted some real attention grabbing skill that would always leave everyone in awe (can’t play sports either, so that’s out). And…I guess I just can’t do it. All the things I’m best at I can really only do in private, or in front of the eyes of a fair few. And in the past year, I’ve somehow grown to accept that, and put myself in a quiet corner where I seem to do so well. 

A part of me no longer wants to be heard. The complacency is crushing, but that part of me has accepted the fact that to most people, I’m ordinary, possibly boring. Painfully so. The thing that makes me unordinary might be the thing that kills me in the end. A part of me no longer wants to be heard. A bird with no voice. 

And so, I’ve given up on being a decent singer.