Okay I admit it, I'm a complete masochist; I love watching the X Factor auditions.
How do the tone deaf get such faith in their abilities? The conceited ones make me giggle, but then there are always a few; wide eyed and bushy tailed, full of hope and a real (but completely inflated) idea that if they just sing their little hearts out, wonderful things will happen.
Its like watching Cinderella turn up at the ball with cabbage on her teeth and a huge premenstrual zit on her nose.
Every nervous warble makes by heart bleed for their panic. Every bum note actually pierces me, making my stomach tie further and further into knots with each one. One leg sometimes starts to twitch with the urge to physically wince and curl up into a ball, in empathy. I have been known to finish the programme and find I am huddled at the top of the armchair out of some involuntary need to crawl backward away from it all.
Somewhere in the middle you get one, maybe two voices that are so tonally perfect that they slice the air, reverberate in your very being and leave you in freefall. Until next week. Its a funny thing, hope; it can polish a voice or smash it and I know that as the groups dwindle, many of those that sang like angels will never manage it again.
Roll on next week!