No One Actually Cares.

A note about my pointless insecurities.

I was a music “scene” kid growing up.

Like the baby barrette, hair swooping, mini skirt, myspace selfie, way too much eyeliner wearing, emo girl.

I spent the better half of my high school life in questionable dicey dark venues in any city in a drivable proximity, seeing bands perform at volumes I’m certain have destroyed my hearing. I would stand sweating and screaming my sixteen-year-old-soul out into the ether with anywhere from 20-100+ other humans who felt weird and alone like me and were certain no one understood us like the 3 lines of that song.