Tears L•H

67

Addilyn's POV

It takes me until tonight, November 30th 2018, at 12:46 am, to realize how far I've come. I get an amazing text from Luke, something about how far I've come. I cried. The truth is, I've never really realized how many fans I have, how many people were at that very first concert. 2,157. I love every one of them with all of my heart.

But, when I wake up in the morning, I prepare for a busy day, busting my ass for the media's 'information' about my personal life, the meaning of every god damn song I release, because their puny brains don't understand. They don't understand what my fans and I go through. The everyday struggle with our own minds, holding onto our brains like they hold onto their dicks.

The point is, my friends and I have problems. Every one of my fans have had some sort of problem. Why else would they listen to me? My voice isn't amazing, so I use lyrics to connect. I'm completely inspired by Twenty One Pilots.

Mornings now equal breakfast at 8:00 am, interviews, meet and greets, that shit, lunch, more interviews, a tiny bit of free time, dinner at some restaurant/pizza/anything I can find, and by that time, it's fucking showtime.

Everyone I'm close to seems to be having an amazing time. I'm stuck here, tired 24/7, crying because I miss my boyfriend. I'm more emotional than ever, but I've learned independence, freedom from unoriginality.

My fans have changed me the most. My first album was extremely unpopular, barely anyone listened to it, but this album is what made me gain more fans. I barely post YouTube videos anymore because of my inability to have free time.

I also write still. Poems, songs, stories, ideas for future albums. I write in that god damn journal every night, just because.

Creativity flows in this mad house.