Another concert?  He thought they were done, at least for now.  He thought he would finally be able to go home and wallow in his self-pity, be alone with himself and just think.  Or not think.  That was the beauty of a vacation he could do what every the heck he wanted to, well not really.  He couldn’t just go to the movies if he felt like it, heck some days he couldn’t even go to the store to buy toilet paper.  No he had to call one of those big black guys they employed to keep their small white butts safe from all the crazy thirteen-year-old girls out there who wanted them.  Wanted them for their fame, certainly not for who they were. Did he even know who he really was?   He wanted time to himself to really think about his life.  Was doing what he loved worth everything that he gave up for it?  He hated the schedule and all the engagements.  He felt like his whole life was scheduled for him.  Like he had no choice in what he could do, what he ate, what he wore, and certainly who he could and couldn’t see. 

So he was doing this other concert.  It would be ok.  Only like 5,000 people, that was small.  Umff, 5,000 people is small?  Well in the life he had chosen to live performing in front of 5,000 people was nothing, nothing at all.  Sure there was that high he got every time he took the stage at night.  When the lights were on, the band was playing and he was just singing and dancing.  That was great, but as soon as the lights went out and the band stopped he was back right where he started.  Back to the hurt and the pain, back to the sense of why?  Why him?  Why now?  What was it about this darn life that just made it almost unbearable?