It all started when I was little and my elder sister borrowed a friend’s guitar. Out of curiosity, I took the guitar myself (which at that time seemed bigger than me). After I plucked the first string, I just started terrorizing my sister. A day later I was sure to love it. For six years afterwards I wanted a guitar, until one winter, when my dream came true, on my birthday. She bought me an sw201bk Stagg guitar, which I called “Zdranga Zdranga ".
On the first month I would fall asleep with the guitar in my arms every night, and felt like I could finally express what I feel, after a long time… it was “my voice” indeed. A few months I was isolating myself from others while playing the guitar, like I was escaping to the reality I was creating by myself.
Now, when I’m upset, the only thing that helps and never lets me down is my guitar.