The last time I put hands to my piano to record something was October 17th, 2012. I lost my faith years ago, but somehow held onto the idea that what I held inside me was special, something that should make me better than those around me.

I was wrong.

There have been comments that people felt like I was surrendering, giving up; I don't believe this is strictly true. I am no longer enchanted by my illusion that what I hold is "sacred", in any way. I am not the divine voice of music. I do not know what it is but I am certain that I very much wanted it to make me a special snowflake, and that would somehow bypass the things any "normal" musician would need to do to be successful.

The music will continue to speak to me whether or not I want it to; along with a comment I received in private, it adds to the evidence pile of "he's an autistic kid." Although, at 30, can I really call myself a kid anymore?

I wish I knew.