"Small town minds stay small."
Hand me down some of your old rock star clothing and we can create a new line of such designs. A new world order. We are championing this new product. It is in development. You will be surprised. Although my fears are of creative stifling. Of lack of motivation to grow beyond pop hits and simple song structures. We are talented enough to transcend typical boundaries and this is what the world needs. There is a niche for such music. A big enough one. The cover of Rolling Stone? We looked like rock stars in the back of my grey sub compact. Juxtapose your position and I have complete faith that over this riotous weekend, you will be unfaithful. This is not fair because I have tried to be unfaithful but my chances missed. My trajectory misaligned. What makes a city great is the constant sex that goes along with it. But when there are no comforters to readjust for company. When there is no one to tell your dreams to. Talk to yourself. Grow deeper into paralysis. A paralyzed state of being. From hockey star to guitar superhero. I need to be the bass player that others aspire to be. How do I become that? Learn music theory. Buy some books. Soak it in. Get a job to afford the books. And food. I have barely spent any money here yet so I feel guilt-free. Mostly. Home-cooked meals on the horizon in a few different states. Nearly played in hot air balloons to 40,000 people drunk off wine living in the past. But that is not the way we should explode. My own light box and microphone?
There is a confusion. I am trying not to resist but my heart is fully in this. Pool table shots. A recreation of Abbey Road on Califa somewhere. Everyone in Woodland hills bachelor pads. Where are all the women hiding? Invite some girls over to hang out and talk with. We already feel so comfortable. I just let you guys know that I would be staying in your midst. To grow and to learn. Hopefully my presence demands a sort of growth and learning as well. Bring down the art supplies and get cracking on some new logos for websites or whatever. Watch the interviews and the live footage from boulevard feats. One day I will be playing a music festival, one that brings me back to such wonderful places as the Gorge or Treasure Island or Seattle Center... or even Capitol Hill. Nice weather for a block party, spray the audience with a fire hose. They'll just cheer for more.
Poison the water supply and keep everyone sedate. In their lawn chairs outside of waiting rooms. Long boardwalks of people, living horizontal, faces north. Hold onto your desires and don't let them go. I fell in love a while back but it is not stopping me from becoming a dream figure. The only thing stopping me from success in full is my own confusion regarding my role in this new environment. I am not stifling myself but I do question the boundaries of creative control... where the image and the acting takes over for the genuine and the golden gems of our writing. We need to live in a cabin and work together in a harmonic duality. Collaboration and camaraderie. The word of the day is camaraderie. (mutual trust and friendship among people who spend a lot of time together).
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I can't sleep. I can't dream about sleeping. My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth and thinking. I am so anxious. On edge. Feeling like stifled explosion set off in my heart. Holy shit do I feel misunderstood. I can't sleep because I am so conflicted. I don't want to sing about god. I don't want to sing about god. "feels like a worship song to me." Should I wear a hat? "I'll have to pray about it." Pray to what? Let the force be with you. I need to get my fucking act together. This negativity is terrible. It makes me resent every wonderful thing around me and fuck up great opportunities. Image is everything here. As fucking awful as that is.
Will I ever write for money?
Is gas too expensive for me to join a gym?
Will my originality become destroyed because I'm supposed to be something so secure... Fucking work out. You fat ass. No sense of fashion. Who gives! When I am no longer me. Let me know. Anarchist. Atheism. Negative. No god. No government. Only us and them. I have become a cog in their wheel. Tonight I can't seem to cope.
