Page 31 of Pierce Me

‘The nightingales won’t let you sleep in Platres.’

I’m reduced to reading Euripides, the ancient Greek dramatic poet. This quote is from one of his most famous plays,Eleni. And then requoted by Seferis, a more recent poet that changed Greece’s poetry landscape forever.

And the world’s. Greece is the world. What starts from there affects everything. I have been studying Greek since I was a kid, it’s my passion.

‘The nightingales won’t let you sleep in Platres.’

‘What is a god, what not a god, and what’s the difference between them?’

I could read nothing but Seferis for a year, I swear.

I’m readingEleniagain, the epic story of Helen of Troy, trying to get inspired. Once upon a time, whenever I so much reached for my well-worn copy of Greek plays likeEleniorAntigoni, inspiration flowed immediately.

I even put the Trojan war in one of my songs. I don’t care if anyone ever gets it—spoiler: no one has.

For most people, Greece is the land of ancient ruins and in current ruins (a dude who thinks of himself as a comedian said something like that once. Very funny. Not.) But the ancient Greeks were the stuff of myths and nightmares. All of mankind’s stories start here: the Iliad, the Odyssey, the tragedies, the gods. So I guess I’m a massive nerd, because I can’t stop putting references to them in my songs, but only I understand them.

You’re dragging me along

Nothin’ but a body in the mud

Your chariot ablaze

I didn’t know it when we started

But this is war

And you are my Achilles.

That’s the bridge fromThis Is War, the song that tied withHeartbreakeron the charts the week it came out.

No one knows the bridge describes a real scene from a battle in theIliad. In the battle scene, Achilles dragged the dead body of prince Hector, his enemy, on the ground behind him with his chariot. I don’t think anyone knows the story but me. But I know the story, and, more importantly, I know the feeling of being dragged, dead in the mud (not to be too dramatic or anything).

No one knows I find inspiration from Greek poets for my lyrics. Well, no one, apart from Skye and Jude, and they are both oath-bound to keep it a secret. Pop idols are allowed to be eccentric, but not weird. Issy Woo, he of the platinum album, ten number one songs in international billboards that lasted upwards of seven months and four Grammys cannotbe a nerd.

Oh, but Issy Woo is a nerd.

Eden made me one.

“From one poet to another, what’s your secret, Euripides?” I ask out loud.

There’s no one here to hear me, but I can confirm it myself: I’ve finally gone completely crazy. Euripides has been dead for centuries. I, on the other hand, have been dead inside for exactly four years.

Since Eden killed me.

I fling my pencil down and it clatters to the floor by my bare feet.

This is not going to work.

I’m sitting at the piano, trying to come up with a single verse for a new song, but it’s impossible. The lyrics just won’t come out. I let my fingers glide on the keys and a new melody pours out of them randomly. My hands always do this to me, coming up with music when I’m not looking for it.

“Not now,” I mumble. “I need words, not notes.”

When I finish playing, I pick up my phone. Two hours have gone by, and I hardly noticed.Perfect.Skye’s going to yell at me again.Oh, who cares.I get up, dragging my feet to the couch. I prop them up on the table, wondering if I’ve eaten anything today. I had a cereal bar, didn’t I? Wait, that was yesterday when Skye was still here.I’ll start eating tomorrow.

…

I flip through my contacts and I see the name of the one person who is able to understand exactly how it feels to struggle with the urge for an addiction.

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