WriteMyke

His heart was racing. Nauseous, his stomach was turning wave after wave. After ending his ritualistic phone call with his Mum, he felt a hint of comfort. He tried telling himself that being nervous is part of the show. It’s what makes him strive for perfection and keeps him searching for the track that the crowd doesn’t even know they want to hear. It’s what keeps the energy flowing and what keeps his focus. A voice briefly cut his rapid anxiety, ‘five minutes.’ The panic was turning to excitement. Feverishly he recapped the tentative playlist in his head. It doesn’t matter too much, it would all change anyway. The best performances come from improvisation. This was his first big show. This was his first time headlining and the first time he filled the house with people wanting to see him and no other perform. He could not be happier or more stressed. This was the one. This was the one that would make his career. He’d soon be traveling the world to the hottest clubs, to the mo...

I had a dream the other night that I had no eyes. I couldn’t get over that image. The feeling was panic mixed with shock, yet overall, it was uncanny. It was so mystifying, in fact, that I spent the whole day being revisited with vivid flashbacks. It wasn’t as if my eyes were seemingly airbrushed away from my appearance. I had open cavities on my face. Disturbing. I could even recall the feeling of cool air pressing itself within the center of my head much like a breeze crossing over your eyes. The event was so astounding that I found it gripping my attention sporadically throughout my day. I never even stopped to ask myself how I saw myself with no eyes. Peculiar how a dream that was holding my subconscious captive all day could stall thought like a rhetorical question when seen at a different angle. Rather than why, but, now, how? I saw myself in a mirror. I know that; I remember seeing that. I know that I shouldn’t consciously ponder what my subconscious does, I doubt that’...