𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘

𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵

I thought this was a funny story to tell haha

Warning: Drugs (they just take them and I don't go into details)

꧁꧂

𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟺
New York
— John Lennon —

I still can't believe it. I met Bob Dylan. One of my guitar heroes.

I remember sitting in our suite at the Delmonico Hotel, feeling the weight of the world slowly peeling away. The constant frenzy had its toll, and I was eager for a break. We'd just finished another press conference, and I was lounging on the couch, strumming my guitar absentmindedly, when there was a knock on the door. wIt was our manager, Brian Epstein. He looked unusually excited.

"Hey lads," he called out, "you'll never guess who's here to see you."

Before we could respond, Bob Dylan walked into the room. He had that unmistakable aura, an almost ethereal presence that made the room feel smaller, more intimate. His wild hair, leather jacket, and intense eyes were exactly how I'd imagined them.

"Hey, man," Bob said in that unmistakable drawl of his. "Nice to meet you guys."

I was stunned. Here was Bob freaking Dylan, the voice of our generation, standing in our hotel room. I felt a rush of admiration and curiosity. Bob was someone who'd influenced me deeply. His music was raw, poetic, and honest in a way that ours hadn't been until recently. Meeting him felt like a turning point. We exchanged pleasantries, though I was still a bit starstruck. Bob's presence was calming yet electrifying, a paradox that intrigued me. As we talked, he pulled out a joint from his pocket and offered it to us. Marijuana. I remember looking at Paul, then at George and Ringo. We were all a bit hesitant. We'd experimented with pills before, but marijuana was new territory for us.

"Sure, why not," I finally said, trying to sound nonchalant, not wanting to disappoint him.

Bob lit the joint and took a long drag before passing it to me. I hesitated for a split second before taking it. The smoke filled my lungs, a strange mix of sensations washing over me—nervousness, excitement, a bit of fear. I passed it on to Paul, who took it with a slight grin. As we smoked and talked, the conversation turned deeper. The effects were begenning, it was strange, but relieving. Bob spoke about his music, his views on the world, and his thoughts on fame. His words resonated with me. He had a way of seeing through the superficial, cutting to the heart of what mattered. I felt a connection with him, like we were kindred spirits navigating the chaos of our newfound stardom. Then he stated:

"You guys have a gift, but don't let the fame define you. Keep pushing the boundaries, keep being true to yourselves."

Those words stuck with me. They echoed in my mind long after Bob left that night. Meeting him was more than just an encounter with a musical legend; it was a reminder of why I started making music in the first place. It reignited a fire in me, a desire to push our music further, to be more authentic, more real. As I lay in bed that night, the city's lights casting shadows on the ceiling, I felt a sense of clarity. We were on the cusp of something greater, something more profound. Bob's visit had been a catalyst, a spark that set my mind ablaze with new ideas. The next day, I picked up my guitar with renewed vigor. I felt ready to take our music to new heights, to explore new sounds and ideas. And I knew, deep down, that meeting Bob Dylan was a pivotal moment, one that would shape the future of The Beatles in ways I couldn't yet comprehend.

And about drugs... I don't know. Maybe we'll use them to make different music. I'll talk to Paul about all of this. I have so many ideas for a new album. It would be a conceptual thing, a record where all tracks would have the same atmosphere. An album with an aesthetic of itself.

An album with a Soul.

The End