MUSICIAN, yasha rokossovsky

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[b]OOKURIKARA[/b] - yasha rokossovsky

[attr="class","fngapp-header"]YASHA

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You sit outside on the roof of the apartment complex you live in, watching the stars. What of them you can see. You say to yourself, they're the same ones you can see from home, but the ones at home are brighter. These try to be the same, but they can't compare. Mere lookalikes.



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A candle lights your dining room as you eat your dinner from a glass plate, the metal fork clinking softly against your teeth as you take another bite. You miss your mama, her cooking, her soft humming in the kitchen as she prepared borshch. It would simmer all day, filling the whole house full of it's savory scent. Yours doesn't compare, so you haven't tried to make it.



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Your fans love you, your haters hate you even more, but you play on. You were good enough at home, you're good enough here. Your label says so. Each show, you get a little richer, you become a little more well known. That's what matters.



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Each day is new, each sunrise different from the last. Each sunset marks the end of another chapter. As you sip your tea, you watch the lights of the cars driving down below. How interesting they can't see you from where you are, but you wonder where they're going. What their life is like. It doesn't matter, but it makes your day a little more interesting to wonder.

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It's moments like these you think about as you sing and write your stories. Each one a new tale, one nobody has ever heard before.

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