A couple of days ago I received some of the worst news in a while. Isaiah “Ikey” Owens died in his sleep in Mexico. What? I couldn’t believe it. My favorite keyboardist and one of my biggest influences of all-time, gone. Someone who I grew up with and who molded my music views and tastes. I still can’t believe it.
I write to learn the truth. The truth of life; of death. The truth of you; of me. I write because I want to know why I write. I write because I can’t do anything else; my hands know only the language of literature and not the language of carpenter.
Why do I want to learn the truth? I want to learn it because it’s something I don’t understand. Why do you do what you do? How come you wake up in the morning? Why are you always punctual? Why don’t you take risks? What is your purpose?
I used to think I could do anything I wanted to. I wasn’t gifted, but if I put my mind to something, nothing could hold me back from doing it. I remember when I learned the lesson that nothing can be done truly successfully without first failing several times.
I was an honor roll student all through my elementary years. I would always bring back high averages for all my classes. I always sat in the middle of the room in the front row, as I still do. I always paid attention and took the best notes. Then came math.