I used to be an artist.

            yeah, actually my life went totally off any reasonable path back when I had just turned 20. I picked up some simple guitar at the end of college and as I was finishing my degree I sold my baseball cards and bought my first electric guitar. Eventually the next time I looked up, I never even tried to get a job in the field I got my degree in, I basically gave that all up to rock and roll. Started writing songs at a pretty brisk pace and knew (thought) I was great in around 1986, worked on my craft on multi-track recorders and then they invented the mp3 and I brought my music to the world in the year 2000. T’was the biggest and greatest music site ever, mp3.com, and I became the most well-known artist there, fuck, the whole site revolved around me for awhile, I was the undisputed king of indies before Vivendi won that lawsuit and threw the indies out. That didn’t stop me there, I wrote more songs, I got better at producing, I worked my thang, maybe harder than anybody, ever. I rose to the top at Artist Launch, Funender, My Space showed up and watered everything down, morphed into Facebook, and no matter how I scraped by that point, in a full state of quality music, I suddenly started to feel more and more invisible. I don’t understand it, never will. Many of my closest friends and fans turned away and didn’t even know it.

            Every new song I finished by this point I wore like a stripe. It was clearly bringing the best part of me. I accumulated a long list of vastly original songs, variations of styles, all different. My songs were my identity. I partnered up with several absolute geniuses and made many great songs with them. I think everything I ever did in indie music and even trying to get along with people online, my entire social life, was based on carrying around my catalogue of songs that were the best representation of me. Those songs were clearly my life. But every move I made was starting to backfire, I could see my trail of crumbs fading, my impact was disappearing with every cool new song I released. Nobody gave a fuck and they never will. People who came to know me quite well somehow have never even bothered to check out my music or think of me in that way. Do I suck? I still don’t think so. I think there’s something repugnant about my personality. But it doesn’t even matter, it’s just a fact that I can’t make anyone give a fuck about my music. I realized this in finality in 2017. I removed all my songs from pretty much all my pages at the end of last October, including all my music videos. No one even noticed, let alone acknowledged. That’s where I’m at right now. I’d feel better about my life if I’d never had let anyone hear any of my songs, to be honest. Let those formerly precious songs dissipate into the wind and let any thought that any of them mattered to anybody die violently. Do I deserve to be cast in this void, I don’t think so but people like what they like, who they like. All that building of a so-called artist career and nobody even noticed that I killed it.