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2003-06-28 - 6:46 p.m.

They're not the same as us. They exist in a parallel universe, separated by a stage barrier, a television screen, a stereo, a sports field. The only wrong they can do is put out a bad album, stay a season too long or lose a match because that is what they are to us. We all have heroes, idols, and they're different to everybody else. There's your world and there's their world.

What happens when worlds collide?

How do you compare John Lennon who used his immense fame and power to promote world peace with John Lennon who used to serially cheat on and hit his first wife? Do we need to know the latter information? Does it affect our opinion of the former?

Some people dream of meeting their idols. Sometimes peoples dreams come true, other times their illusions are shattered. Sometimes you can just know too much. Sometimes you wish you were free of "riotous excursions with priveledged glimpses into the human heart."

If you had told me four years ago that I would know one of my idols on a first name basis I would have been very sceptical. If you had told me that I would have lost all respect for them and had to ask myself why I didn't despise them more than I do, I don't think I would have believed you.

The line between man and myth started blurring over three years ago. But for the last two years I've been living a lie. I've subconsciously recreated the barrier bewteen man and myth that, once broken, cannot be reformed.

"Living a lie becomes so easy, but now I just want to be free"

I think I've been revealing things I swore I would never tell as long as I lived for a few reasons. One of them has been dealing with the fact that my reason for keeping said secrets is gone. What is the point of continuing not to break a trust that isn't there? Another is that I feel guilty burying the facts, so while I'm carefully reconstructing a barrier that rightfully I shouldn't be, that of man and myth, I am at least making other people aware of what has been going through my mind for the last two years.

Maybe I want you guys to be my conscience. Maybe I want you to ask me what the hell I'm doing exchanging pleasantries with someone so despicable. I don't think it will change my mind about where I'm heading, and that is away from the truth at lightning speed. I'm trying to reclaim some of my innocence.

I'm trying to forget and make it about the music and the passion again.

But I'll never forget her, and some wounds will never heal.

Nothing's Pure.

The blood runs to the floor.


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