2/24/11

i hate music

i used to love it, now i hate it
useless, self-indulgent bullshit

sandalwood dreams, troll the zen bridge

i'm sick of not measuring up - when i think i did something great, outside opinion is that it's crap - when other people say i did something great, my opinion is that they're full of shit - never the twain shall meet

i'm sick of trying to be a producer - nobody asked or suggested that i do it, i took on this great task myself, thinking it would not feel like a task, but a labour of love - it was for a while, but now it's become a labour of raping myself in the ass

no, you didn't ask me to take this on, i can't cast blame outside my fevered ego, but all i can say at this point is, go hire rick rubin if you want it done right - i don't know what i'm doing, i'm not up to the task, i'm sick of treating it like it's important and worthwhile, and worth pulling all nighters for - it's devastating to get that creative rush, and work all night on something, and find that i'm no further ahead when i land back on the ground - having to re-do, re-do, it's never good enough - and why would it be? what can i expect, it's pathetic, this fragility of mine, my inability to deal with reality - this RPM thing, maybe i'll release it later, when i've got some drive back, if that ever happens - i don't want to work with other people anymore, and try to read their minds - i'm totally burned out, i don't even want to work on music anymore, fuck music

the worst part is how people try to be nice, but i see the effort involved, the strain... i got no one to be angry at except myself, and i'm not meaning to separate my self from people - we do this for our own benefit, avoid drama at any cost - i know this, i hate drama - i know when people are bullshitting me, you can't bullshit a bullshitter - and jesus, what do i want, a fucking ticker tape parade? i guess that when i devote myself to a project like this with religious intensity, there develops a craving for an appropriate level of validation - i try not to make assumptions, but it's also hard not to assume that if there was anything like a shared appreciation for my work, i would know - and i know how moronic i'm being letting this letdown feeling run rampant - at times like these i WISH i was a cold autistic calculator bound to my own self-generated holodeck program like people think i am, then i wouldn't have to feel like such an idiot spinning around in this loop

i'm on the verge of hitting the "burning desire" button, but, nah, i don't think so - i don't want to - i dread what would happen - stranger danger - i don't want a bunch of anonymous life-coaches showing up on my digital doorstep - maybe i just won't use, i don't have to use over this, and i don't want to - i'll just be miserable... so i didn't get my validation from the universe like i said i needed "or else" - i got confirmation of my mediocrity instead - of course that would happen - it's supposed to be a lesson i guess - fucking lessons, fuck you and your opportunities, i'm going to exercise free won't-power and opt out, my hand is not out, i'm too lethargic to learn - i feel like leaning on fatalism and growling FUCK IT! but i don't feel like running out for drugs, the idea is horrific, the way it would compound this negativity... i'm thinking about it constantly, but i can't imagine getting any relief from it, even in the early stages, i wouldn't enjoy it, at most i would reach a delirium with a heavy solvent stink before the grinding comedown



2 comments:

Tasha Klein said...

I know that 'Retinal Grain' is brilliant. . and I sort of understand your frustrations. ---
Just thought I'd say something. Take good care, tash

chels said...

"i guess that when i devote myself to a project like this with religious intensity, there develops a craving for an appropriate level of validation"

ain't that the goddamn truth.

or, on a lighter note, as john campbell put it: "a history of art: look - look at me."

we all do that. but there are those of us, like you, who bury yourself in the work, completely, immersively, and at the very least someone should give you a proper goddamn funeral and let the thing die with dignity, if they're not going to throw the tickertape parade.

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