Whiny city, bitch.

This entry may come off as exceptionally self indulgent and whiny.  Consider yourself warned.

It came to me the other day that I am largely out of fucks to give, meaning I just don't care about the opinions of most people.  This has always been a part of me, and considering that making a living in music relies upon others valuing what you do, we might have a problem.  But, that's with any profession, isn't it?  You have to have skills for which others are willing to pay, and you have to do a job well enough maintain employment.  But, as with most things in my life, I'd rather make myself happy than anyone else about 95% of the time, and often to my own fucking detriment.  Is that partly attributable to the human condition?  Maybe.  I suspect many of us have at least a little bit of that in them.  I seem to have a lot.  

But, here's the thing.  People are fucking stupid.  

What's that?  You want proof?  What, you can't just look around for a few minutes?  Fine.  Here you go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0he0cqHH20&list=PLa8S4GilqogQILnrvxLgZREFkebrMfJ3f

Ok.  Not all people are stupid, but it seems like most of them.  And these are the fuckers to whom I need to appeal in order to successfully sell my music?  

This may seem like a rationalization for my failure, and it may well be.  The fact that I have failed at just about everything I've tried also came to me recently, and it's a bitter fucking pill to swallow.  I've never had a job I loved.  I've never gotten close to making a living with music, on any level.  I'm obese, and while I understand how to change that, I just don't, or am unable to do so consistently.  I could go on, but why bother?

So, why continue?

What choice do I really have?  End my life?  Not likely.  I don't know what's on the other side, and doing so is unfair to those left behind.  So, I keep trying.  Sort of.  I haven't really done much of anything that really matters to me since releasing my last album.  I'm just about done with school, so I'll have more time on my hands - but that prospect is actually a bit frightening.  It means I won't be able to blame my lack of effort to do something I find rewarding on a lack of time.  I do that now, and have since at least the beginning of last year.  While there is some truth to that tactic, if I'm being completely honest with myself, the real reason is fear.  Fear of continuing to fail.  Quite frankly, I'm fucking tired of it.  I don't know how much more of it I can take.  It is exceptionally difficult to put all of one's self into something, and have that work met with what amounts to an almost complete lack of interest from the world.  But, what else can I do?  I suppose I really do have some choices.

First, I can just quit.  I've quit music before, but it didn't take.  The flame of passion within roared again, fed by just the slightest spark of interest and encouragement.  But, I was a younger man then.  It was over a decade ago.  I'm 45 now, and there are far fewer days in front of me than there are behind, and it really is much easier to just sink into my reclining couch and let some form of oblivion on television lull me into a near comatose state where my inner pain and turmoil are both temporarily shoved aside in favor of some form of bullshit entertainment in high def video and digital surround sound.  

Second, I can just stop caring about whether or not I "make it."  Attachment is the root of suffering, right?  If I don't want something, not having it doesn't fucking hurt.  Besides, I can just create art for art's sake, right?  Right?  Yes, I could.  But again, if I'm going to be completely honest with myself, I want a level of success.  Hell, at one point, I wanted to be a prophet of sorts; a poet whose insight and means of expression moved others the way my favorite songs, movies, and artists move me.  Dream big, motherfucker.  Maybe all I really am is a fat kid whose insecurities drive him to try and find acceptance on some level.  Bah.  Fuck you, Freud.  You've been discredited.  Piss off.  But, the fact that I can choose to stop caring remains.  

Third, I can rededicate myself once school is done and make another run at it, perhaps with a full band, or as a solo artist.  This actually seems like the least likely scenario, because playing to audiences who don't give a fuck on any level about what I'm doing is one of the most painful things I've ever experienced.  It's actually worse than active dislike, because at least that's a reaction.  I don't want to do it anymore, and I don't think I can expect it to never happen again if I continue to gig.  

So, what's going to happen?  Truthfully, I'm not sure.  I'm working on a batch of instrumental material, and what I have so far is good enough to justify completion.  I also want to see what else I'm going to come up with.  After that?  I don't know right now.  More original songs, maybe.  I still have a nagging feeling that an acoustic cover duo/trio/band as I described in a previous post could do quite well; maybe I'll take another stab at that.  

Whatever happens, one thing is certain.  I really shouldn't just spend the rest of my life watching TV on my fucking couch.  What fucking good does that do me or anyone else?

Fuck it.  I'll keep trying world, whether you like it or not.  At least until I can't.  

 

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