humansofnewyork: “I was a mess when I was born. My face was super red. I wouldn’t stop s
“I was a mess when I was born. My face was super red. I wouldn’t stop screaming. I peed all over the nurses. Even as a child, I could tell that the world sucked. Life didn’t seem to be about enjoying beautiful things, or feeling amazing emotions. It was: ‘Play this game.’ ‘Now have dinner.’ ‘Now work on this.’ And things didn’t seem much better for adults. It made me anxious. I was a really anxious kid. There were a lot of migraines. There was a lot of crying, and a lot of anger. The only thing that calmed me down was listening to music. I used to hide behind our couch with a little boombox. There was nobody telling me that I shouldn’t feel a certain way. It was the only time when my emotions had first priority. I get that same feeling when I’m performing in the park. I choose what music I want to play. I get to make my own schedule. I’ve been out here every Saturday and Sunday for fifteen years. I’ve got a pretty good system going. I keep the piano in a nearby storage unit. I can get set up in less than an hour. As long as there’s a clear sky, and it’s above freezing, I’ll be out here. I think street performance is the purest form of connection. There’s no velvet rope, or assigned seating, or two drink minimum. You just hear something you like, and you walk over there. And if you like it enough, maybe you’ll stick around for a song. These last couple years have been tough. I’m only playing for a fraction of the people. It’s hard to make money. It’s hard to feel the same sense of connection. But for each person who still walks over, and stops for a minute, I like to think that I took a little bit of misery from their lives. For so long the world was a miserable place for me. But I finally found my own little way to make it better. Everyone wants to escape reality: with social media, and tv shows, and video games. I’m doing my best to make reality the most beautiful place you can be. If only for the length of a song. One afternoon when I finished playing, I found a note in my bucket. It said: “Five years ago I was in this park, and I’d finally decided to end my life. I was about to head for the bridge, and you started playing Chopin. I’ve never forgotten that.’”
