“I'm still hurting from the frowning, cruel piano teacher who stole music from me. Hurting from the pain of my mother forcing me as a child to play exactly as I was instructed, to be the prodigy she so desperately wished me to be. I'm still holding a grudge as dark and sinister as the clouds outside for the both of them. Because I was never enough. I was never going to be the golden ticket into a life they craved.” LifePhilosophyDisappointmentPianoNever Enough Book:The Fabric of Our Souls Source: The Fabric of Our Souls