From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Johnny Cash carried his own cross, trudging along, from his father's beatings to his mother's forbearance and Vivian's pain. Those struggles and curses always bound his soul. He didn't dare face himself, refused to face himself, and even hated the real him.

From the eyes of those closest to him, Johnny saw himself as weak and timid, incompetent and clumsy. They didn't even need words; a single look could disarm him, strip away all his defenses, and expose his softest, most vulnerable parts, full of wounds.

Even with Vivian, it was the same.

Vivian had always known about Johnny's musical dreams. She didn't object, but she didn't support them either. Sometimes she would gently encourage him to write music, and sometimes she would be in pain because of their financial difficulties. Sometimes she thought Johnny's amateur music with his friends had no future.

Ultimately, Vivian was still a traditional woman. She longed for a stable and peaceful life. She longed for Johnny to bring a steady income. Although she was immersed in pain and torment, she was always learning to be gentle and considerate in understanding Johnny, but she never truly understood him.

Vivian's struggle was also Johnny's struggle.

They were both gentle souls, but they hurt each other constantly because they were too gentle.

Johnny didn't dare look Vivian in the eyes. He feared seeing disappointment and struggle in those eyes, and that worthless self.

In front of Vivian, Johnny always performed gospel music, but he never told Vivian that he also wrote other types of music.

His joys, sorrows, his fragility and wounds, his pain and struggles, were poured into notes, transformed into melodies, and flowed out from the depths of his soul.

However, he dared not reveal them, but could only carefully bury and hide them. That was another secret hidden in his musical dreams.

Even he himself didn't dare face it.

Until now.

Standing in front of Sam, Johnny felt naked for the first time—

So, music really is the window to the soul; so, there really are people who can see through his struggles and concealments at a glance.

Johnny lowered his eyes, avoiding eye contact, like a child who had done something wrong.

After struggling and pulling, Johnny cautiously raised his head again to look at Sam, and said carefully.

"I wrote a few songs when I was in the Air Force..."

The mumbling voice was vague. Johnny also realized his embarrassment, deliberately raised his voice, sounding fierce but inwardly weak, with a hint of provocation.

"Do you have a problem with the Air Force?"

Sam raised his eyebrows slightly, and said calmly and decisively, "No."

Johnny also realized that his attack was a bit naive, and his tone softened again, "I do."

Sam was stunned, slightly surprised: Johnny has a problem with the Air Force? What's the problem? Or is he joking?

Sam carefully looked at Johnny's eyes.

He saw a glimmer of light in Johnny's eyes, a faint but firm light. Although he was still introverted and still restrained, he could feel the power hidden deep in his soul, tenacious and fiery.

Sam himself straightened his back without realizing it, and began to look forward to it faintly.

However, Johnny's partners didn't think so.

"JR, no matter what you sing, we haven't heard it."

"What... what do we do?"

Johnny didn't respond. He stared at Sam, immersed in his thoughts, without accompaniment or greeting, and hummed softly.

"I hear the train a comin', it's rolling 'round the bend."

Light and gentle, you can vaguely feel a little tremor in the voice, with a little hesitation and a little fragility, but firmly telling the story.

"I ain't seen the sunshine since, I don't know when, I'm stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin' on."

Sam was slightly stunned, trying to react, but couldn't help but freeze in place.

Not only Sam, but Luther and Marshall were no exception, because they could feel the power of emotion in Johnny's slightly trembling ending.

Involuntarily, he stretched out his right hand, trying to capture a ray of sunlight through the window the size of a tofu block, but there was nothing in his palm, just grabbing a piece of coldness when he slightly retracted his fingertips.

Suddenly raising his head, the four walls circled a black hole that could not feel time or space, falling into nothingness before he realized it.

What is this song?

"Folsom Prison Blues."

Hunter immediately caught the melody. Even without accompaniment, the vicissitudes and fragility, loneliness and sigh in Johnny's singing accurately landed on the heart.

This song was not written by Johnny during his time in prison. The inspiration came from a movie Johnny watched during his service.

Folsom Prison is a high-security prison in California. The movie tells the story of the warden torturing prisoners with various inhumane methods before the 1944 prison reform, which made Johnny think.

In this context, Johnny wrote this song in the first person.

Obviously, Johnny has never made this song public. He is afraid of exposing his inner thoughts. He is worried about showing his true self. His thoughts, his precipitation, and his soul have long been accustomed to hiding in his silence and clumsiness.

Until now.

"But that train keeps a rollin', on down to San Antone."

Melodious and tactful, but completely relaxed between the smooth notes.

The corners of his mouth were gently pulled, not happy or happy, but the freedom to relax in the melody, the layers of haze shrouded above his head quietly dissipated, and the diluted light poked out from behind the thick clouds.

Johnny Cash's song, although the theme is heavy, he presents it in a brisk way. Those sighs, those loneliness, those regrets fly freely and freely in the collision of swing and country styles.

However, just now, in the first verse, Johnny's performance was full of too many mixed emotions, revealing a kind of wavering unease and apprehension.

Until now.

In the eloquent singing, he regained his confidence, entered his performance state, and the noise in his voice settled down.

Then, his fingertips landed on the guitar strings and plucked it gently—

A variation.

The rhythm and tonality have all changed, and it seems that the entire sky is still cloudy, with drizzling rain; however, the sun stubbornly penetrates the clouds and sprinkles down, and a wisp of gold slowly permeates the gray and chaotic world, and the continuous rain seems not so bad anymore.

The whole feeling is subtle and mixed.

His eyes, however, couldn't help but fall on Johnny.