Gold Star Tavern

On an evening bleak and dreary, I found myself in the Gold Star Tavern. The Gold Star Tavern is a special place for special people. People of all kinds come together as one. Everyone works there. Everyone has a place there, and if you don't, you find one. Theres always something to do, something to hook up, something to hang up, something to observe and something to operate. I found my own special place in a particular corner that conceals you from most angles, yet gives you a view of every part of the place from my angle. I don't know how I got lucky enough to score such a stellar spot, but I think thats apart of the Gold Star.

Every evening there is a performer that sets up and provides entertainment for us. They have a special voice that narrates every aspect of the tavern and the universe. For me, there is one particular musician that always keeps my pen moving. Its like his words and sounds fuel the pen to twist and shade new perspectives I've never seen before. An entire world is created just before my eyes and its always a puzzle... and if you solve it theres a prize.

My drawings became maps of sorts. Where each viewer could identify and pin point what the shapes and colors symbolized to them. "Thats a desert!" said one lonely soul. "I see secret door!" said another. Every person in the joint had a different clue to solving the puzzle. To understanding the map.

They started hanging up my drawings as time pieces and treasures that mesmorized any onlooker. People would say the drawings spoke to them and helped them understand a part of themselves that was unclear. It really made me feel special. It really felt like my gift had found its purpose.

The trouble is, I can't go there anymore. I can't show my face because my gift is too powerful and I accidentally let a little too much out. I poured my heart and soul out til it was spilling out of my body. Gushing like a river from my chest. All with just a little slip of my pen.

It was him. He tricked me into letting it slide out onto my paper. He sang a song just for me, and hit a note with a harmony that turned into a melody with a persistent hammer on that note. And it triggered me. My pen started moving faster and faster with all of my secrets embedded into every line. My stories into every shape. My heart was bare open. And he ripped it from my chest.

He knows everything now. He knows how to keep me high, he knows how to kill me slow and I'm afraid if I go back it may be the latter.

But now I feel empty. My special place, with my special spot and the respect I got for doing my special drawing each night. I feel lost and only wish I could get back there. I try to recreate the scene in a different bar with different entertainment, but it doesn't work the same. There's no magic, theres no life. I see soulless eyes. I see heartless tries. When I draw for him. When we play together, its like a place of home you've never felt. Its as though we're one. Not just he and I, but everywhere and anyone our light touches. Everyone feels it. Its such a brilliant feeling, its raw and creative, yet safe and secure. Its the feeling I fight each day to get back to.

So, thats where I am; waiting for a sign. Looking for an answer, tracking every clue. There are codes and keys to getting back to the Gold Star. Its a labyrinth of circles and shortcuts that get you back into the door. One thing that you should know about the Gold Star Tavern is that its not a static place, its omnipresent. Its ethereal. Its a state of mind.