Today was full of joy, feeling that I had a created a piece of art the problem is, it is really niche. It will never appeal to more than a few people but is that a reason to stop or more motivation to create.
I will then only be creating for my own enjoyment, creating my own vision, my own hopes and fears, and it will never be tainted by being a commercial enterprise. Yes, I would love to make enough money to live and I am also not one of those people who believes that people can sell out. All they did was try and make their life better and grasp a chance someone gave them, the idea then that a sell out is a bad person just bemuses me.
Surely going to a job you hate every day just to scrape a meager existence is also selling out or does this idea only apply to celebrities. Whatever we do we are ultimately selling out unless we have come from a super privileged background.
So today I took two tracks that I had partly made for my band, and by merging them together pulled together a track that for myself is better than the two separate parts. It is one of those joyful moments in which you feel you can take over the world, I probably can not take over the world though. Nor would I want to, have you looked at the state of it? It’s fucked.
No doubt tomorrow I will have changed my opinion on this track?
In the mean time have a picture.
Writing it used to be an escape and it still is but now the words never come. I wonder if the battle against depression and my other issues have stolen them? Will they ever come back or are they merely hiding and will presently bring themselves to the fore.
In the mean time, I have been investigating music again
It is probably ironic that I am doing this as my writing took over from my music when I started to go deaf, which fed into my depression, so is this a case of history repeating itself or as good a coping mechanism as I can find?
Words they are funny, they are everything, your life, your memories, your existence, and then you lose them.
my feet are cold
socks are upstairs
i’ll keep my cold feet
the sun outside
burns my eyes
with its autumnal glare
We should rise.
Why rise? I asked
It is time.
It is always time. Continue reading “Rise”
Walking. I’m always walking. I don’t know where I’m going or why I need to get there. I just know I need to keep walking. I turn this way and that, no particular reason, just following my feelings. Always just walking. I can hear the sounds of life go past, cascading like waterfalls past my ears. Continue reading “walking”