Courage

It started out as inkling in the back of my brain; barely even a whisper. Hardly noticing
it, I kept on moving. Kept on fighting my way through my life; not knowing where I was really
going or what I was trying to accomplish. There were so many times that I would be thinking, and desperately trying to come up with the reason it had all started. Why I was still living this
chaos.

Slowly though, over time the inkling turned into a seed and decided to take root in my
brain. I let it grow and mill inside my deepest thoughts until there was a stem of inspiration.
Then I got scared and plucked it from my mind, tossing it into the compost heap.

And I kept on. Moving through a world that was always working against me. Thrusting
me into pits of screams and piercing cries and meaningless vows of love and loyalty (all of which I knew would fail me in the end).

Somehow though, that stem found it’s way back into the garden of my mind and this time
I let it stay there. The world was changing and so was my life. All around me the people who
had been in control of me didn’t seem as important anymore. They weren’t worth it. I wasn’t worth it. Sacrificing me for the greater good of my world wasn’t worth it any longer.

Still, even though I let it grow within me I never thought that I’d let it get too far. The new thought that was starting to blossom wouldn’t bear any fruit. I was too terribly frightened to let it.

One day, as I was in my transport freighter moving steadily to the next cargo drop-off centre, I decided to take a good look at the idea that was now a full fledged tree in my thought garden. Indeed there were fruits hanging on its bows. What was I going to do?

I began to realize that the seed I had allowed to be planted there was trying to tell me
something; and I couldn’t grasp it. I couldn’t understand it. It was as if there was a secret
message that was buried in that ripe fruit and I wanted to nourish my thirst for knowledge with it,
but it was always too far out of reach.

Once again I let it slip past me because there was too much fear and not enough
reassurance that I’d be happy afterward. The ripe fruit began to rot and soon fell from the tree. It stunk of garbage. I cleared it out and tried not to think about it ever again.

After a while, one of my fellow mass-producers of teenage entertainment did something
that gave me the courage to allow the tree to once again fill itself with blossoms. They had found their way to break free from the cycle of control and endless torture. It may not have been the best solution, but it was theirs. And indeed, they did love it.

Now, as my life continued forward without a map or compass to guide it, the tree’s fruit
ripened once more. This time, with my ladder of courage, I plucked one of the soft mounds down
from a high branch and ate like a King.

The secret was opened up to me. It gave me the key to unlock my cage of chords, melodies, beats, adoration, idolatry and lack of control. It fed me with the understanding that I
would go on, even if it were alone.


Mom, Dad and the family;

I know that you all are going to be mad at me, and I don’t blame you. I have left. I
needed to get off of this treadmill, and start really living for me. Not for the band, not for the well-being of our family, me. I need to be in control of who I am and although I love all of you I can’t do this anymore.

Since the beginning I have let go of all the dreams that I had for myself, to make the
dreams that you had for me come true. I know that the dreams of a six year old don’t amount to
much when it comes to the larger picture of life, but please take into consideration that the
larger picture of life doesn’t amount to much when it comes to the dreams of a six year old.

You thought that you were doing what was right for me. You wanted to feed my talents,
make them grow stronger; make me love the fact that I had a gift or two. So I can’t blame you
for making those decisions for me. But I’m not six anymore, I’m 19. That means that for
thirteen years I have been living the life that you wanted for me. I haven’t complained about it,
and yes, I did love a lot of what we did.

Music is very important to me. It’s something that I understand. It’s still something that I love to create. But when you add in money guzzling, pompous buffoons, overzealous screaming
girls, and people who will do anything to expose your private life to make a buck, the pleasure
and love that music holds loses it’s glow and becomes tinny as if it were a piece of Fool’s gold.

I felt as if I were a prisoner. Please, don’t think for a second that it was you who was
holding me captive, it was the record companies, the managers, the fans, the rock journalists,
lawyers, tour sponsors, video and photo cameras that were documenting every aspect of my life.
I was a puppet in a show, being controlled by everything other than myself.

I’ve already missed out on so much of life. I’ve missed school and everything that goes
along with it: the anticipation of the first day, recess, dances, exams, report cards, detention,
meeting new friends, the excitement of a first real crush; graduation... I want so badly to go back in time and live childhood over again. I want to be able to just play in the back yard. Have water fights with the neighbourhood kids, have big Birthday parties... not have to worry that there is a group of girls in my front yard taking pictures of my house. I don’t want to be scared to leave the front door because there is a chance that I’ll get mobbed.

I want to go to University. I want to experience dorm life, Frosh week, women. I want to fall in love with someone and not have to worry if it’s me they love or if it’s because I am a member of their favourite band.

Don’t you see? I had to leave. I had to get away from all of it. I’m sorry that I couldn’t
sit down and talk to you about it. I wish that I could have. I wish that I could have said goodbye, but if I had tried all of you would have thrown yourselves at me and begged me to stay, begged me to continue on with it. So instead, I am going to leave this letter on the kitchen table where I know you’ll find it.

Dad, Stop and think. Don’t let anger consume you. I am not doing this to rebel or make
you mad at me, and I’m not doing this because I am selfish. I am doing this because I’m dying
inside. I need to be free. Mom, I love you. Don’t blame yourself for this. I promise that this isn’t good-bye. Taylor, you have an incredible talent. You need to explore it on your own now. I’ve given you what you’ve been wanting for three years: the chance to go solo, to do it on your own. Take it. Isaac... what can I say? Thanks man. If it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have found the courage. You’ll always be my Big Bro. Jess, Avery, Mac and Zoë... do not let the fact that your brothers have been in the spotlight for your entire lives stop you from discovering who you are on your own. All of you have gifts, and all of you will find them. I love you guys.

In two weeks at 8:00 pm Tulsa time I’ll call and let you know where I am. I’m not going
to tell you what to say to the public, you will do a much better job at finding the right words.

Just for the record: I am safe, I am with a friend and I am happy. I also love all of you
very much. Tay, give Ezra and Natalie a kiss from me. Dad, please show Grandma this letter, and
make sure that she knows how much she means to me.

As I said earlier, this isn’t good-bye; it’s just a change. I’ll come home when I know that I can.

I’ll always love you all.

Zac