Some stories require a million words to get across the simplest point. Others require the merest wisp of a whispered few to achieve the same breadth and effect. Still others tell their narrative with a single image. The Delusional Grandeur Tour Book, chronicling the Last Stand of a Rock Star, aims to tell its tale through a little of both. In this particular entry, however, the emphasis is decidedly on economy of expression, allowing a few choice photographs, and the slightest prayer, to expound upon a very dark story.
It’s a story that I’ll one day tell in far more chilling detail (perhaps), a story that touches on issues that run deeper than anything I’ve written about here (thus far), and a story that informs the very essence of this final tour (yes, it’s the last).
It’s also a story that can be interpreted in myriad ways, which is why I love this portion of the Tour Book so much. At first glance, it says something, but if you analyze further it says something else. Each version carries its own set of truths, but each has hidden aspects, and realities that are missing even from the most seemingly-blatant photographic evidence. There’s a phrase that people throw around when they want to sound mysterious and intriguing: nothing is what it seems.
I’ve rarely found that to be true. Most things are indeed as they appear, and the simplest and most stress-free way to live is to take those things to be true. Otherwise, we’d be doubtful of anything, suspicious of everything, and wary of the entire world. I wouldn’t ever want to live that way.
Yet sometimes things aren’t what they at first glance appear to be. Sometimes they’re not what they seem to be upon eight or nine glances. There is always room for the individual to change and grow, evolve and improve – and to count anyone out, especially a proven chameleon and exception to the rule, is foolishness that will always be exposed as such.
“And now I find I’ve changed my mind. This is my religion.”
The Delusional Grandeur Tour: Last Stand of a Rock Star
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