Monday, January 21, 2008

Just Needed to Share vol. 6

I don't like talking to people.

perhaps that should be amended. I don't enjoy conversing with people who are just waiting with an answer to everything i say. People who meet my fears and anxieties with dismissive put-downs and veiled insults masked as "motivation". 25 years and they still don't understand.

I hate this. i hate the idea of having to subjugate my actions to other people's will only cause i lack the means to survive on my own. i hate having to report to people, especially at this stage in my life, only cause i lack the means to be completely on my own. i hate that too many people make up their minds based on surface noise without actually knowing a damn thing. i hate how hard it has been for me to turn this rage into something creative as of late. i've tried losing myself in the art of Zdzislaw Beksinski, the films of Richard Stanley, the music of Diamanda Galas...and while they are indeed more than adequate reflections of the images and words and sounds in my head, my own lack of output is stifling.

The idea of becoming part of a some bland office mechanism doesn't bother me. whatever "job" i get will not be who i am. It will be the means to the end and that's it. i know people don't understand that notion...that i refuse to be defined by my place of employment. i do not have that kind of mentality. it has only just dawned on me; I am an artist. I am a writer. I am a vocalist. They may not pay me a fucking thing, but that's my cross to bear. Status is not in my interest. These blogs and these lyrics are me. Clerical work is not me. It's just something to give me money so i can enable myself to be me again. so everyone will let me be and me be. I'm sorry if this seems foolish to you, or if you don't understand, but it's really not about you. don't be upset if you find i am dragging my feet through this process. if these hooves are lethargic in the sand, it is because i feel defeated. because i've made this inane quest for poorly defined office work the center of my being for low these many months. no more, though. no more of this. Your lack of identity is not going to be pushed on me anymore. I know who i am. i know what i am. Now start paying.

Just Needed to Share.

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