Once you’re up and running, you get busier than Harrod’s in sales. I mean, you’re talking to people about your work, and then they get interested (that’s the positive side of it) or they don’t. No matter what, if they feel something for your work – either love, hate, sympathy, empathy – they start talking about that. Again, once they FEEL something they will chat about it with others (“I heard this song, it’s so terrible I can barely listen to it, check it out to see how terrible it is yourself!”, or “Wow, that thing, was just, wow…you know? I can’t describe it, check it out”).
It’s always good to get noticed in terms of popularity. At the end of the day, isn’t it the reason you’re doing something? Especially when you’re investing on something, you don’t want to keep that in the closet. Everyday I take a look at those artists that put their work under Creative Commons licenses and that becomes so apparent it sometimes hurts! So many people create nowadays, they compose music, write lyrics, keep an updated blog, everyone has the tools to create and creativity is constantly changing. No one is talking about parthenogenesis obviously, only a slight notion of originality.
Also, there are so many times one confronts and realizes the shit that is going on in the world. And the time you realize you have to do something to swim through this large pond of shite, is even worse… And people that support you, well yes, they are something; not everything. It’s hard but true, when you want something to be done the right way, oh well then, go ahead and do it yourself – by all means… By all means – you stupid phrase, i hate you so much – you have to undertake all the consequences and behave like an adult – i didn’t say “be” an adult. But really, who’s perfect all the time?
My point here is, the whole idea of “I don’t know what I want but I know how to get it” is really getting on my nerves. “How” should be the issue, and “I” should be totally criticized. I won’t tolerate wicked ways, by all means.
Paranoia seems closer than ever…
I like to hurt, I like to feel, I love to indulge the pain inside me or you – it’s real!
Sadistic or masochistic, it’s narcotic and fetish-tic.
Cross-dresser or transvester, obsession is my pleasure.
Hypnosis is psychosis, schizophrenia my diagnosis.
Depression, delusion, I hear all the voices.
Reality or fantasy? I think i lose my sanity – hallucinated and demented it feels so fascinated!
I dream of hate, I dream of fear, aggressive anomality, I change my sexuality.
I live in lust, my blood like tear. Asexual, homosexual, returning my aphasia.
Pornography strikes mentally, now I bleed, I guess you see no sign of a.c.t.
Cruality, anomaly, I feel my paranoia, I dream of paranoia.
My mind tormentor, coercive penetrator. Agnosia keeps me pleased a neurosis seems diseased. Anguished or complexed my sin isn’t sex:
hermaphrodite, queer or dyke, I am all that you despise.
People show aversion in my public masturbation – never the time to decide, you just commit menticide.
Single minded egocentric, you’re the only one eccentric, can’t you see your illusion is a blind revolution?