Drinking With Strangers: Phased

I’ve started reading Butch Walker’s recently published memoir, Drinking With Strangers (2011), and like every other book I read, it’s giving me a new persona to desire and someday be able to live out. A part of me has always wanted to be a rockstar without being famous. To be that girl that's all about the music. I've always envied people that have such passion pulsing through their everything. I can't picture my life without writing, and if I don't do it every day, I feel a lack of something, but Walker talks about music the way one would talk about water or oxygen. You can't survive without it. 

Butch Walker has been all over the music world since he was young. I'm so into hearing every detail this man wants to share about the industry from an insider's perspective. For a young and timid blondie who will never cross the 5'7" threshhold, moving to Los Angeles as a teen and carving a pathway through the world of metal and rock and roll on the Sunset Strip sounds terrifying, but I never want to stop reading about it. Living out the idea of something foreign and new and exciting through another's prose is maybe the biggest adrenaline rush an introvert can have. 

It breaks my heart and soul to think I may never experience everything that I want to in this life. I'm encouraged by the fact that I think my confidence might be somewhat growing at least a little, day by day, but investing myself in lustworthy reads like this one make my imagination seem a little more like reality as I sit here in my pathetic little corporate cubicle.