My pal xtop plays his first piano recital:

I never have dreams about showing up naked to school or sitting down for a test and realizing I forgot to study for it. My anxiety dreams tend to revolve around haunted houses, falling and losing things. So I’m confused, sitting up here on stage in front of a piano, my hands shaking like blurry exposures and the songs I’d spent all week practicing suddenly gone, inaccessible, while 20 strangers, my teacher and Matt & Kelly Sue stared up at me in expectant horror. I start to play, and then I hit a wrong note. “Wait. Let me start again.” I know I know how to play Musette; I’ve been playing it for two goddamn months now. This is ridiculous. But eventually I give up; I go on to the next song. Same thing, same wreckage of bad rhythm and forgotten notes. I can feel sweat building up, that same flop sweat that comes on during lessons, but this is so much worse. I am able to just barely play Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Tchaikovsky and everyone applauds, mostly out of pity, it seems. I bow as instructed and walk back to my pew and sink down. I’ve just had my ass handed to me by a 7-year old girl in a black dress. Tell me this is a nightmare.

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