Why I’m a Fu**in Idiot (Aka The Best New Album of 2005… er 2009… er 2014… er WTF?)

Here is a special edition of My Happiness Obsession, where I take myself a task for the most horrible of sins, the worst of offenses.  Enjoy 😉

So here I am at the computer, it’s Tuesday morning, and for the first time in months I am listening to some of my tracks.  Yes, my songs… that I recorded… that I spent in some cases THOUSANDS of hours preparing.  And lots of money too.  Putting my heart and soul into these things for weeks and weeks and months and months and now years and years.

You would think that with that kind of commitment, I would have great plans for these songs.  And that would be correct.  However, strangely enough, to date I have sat on these things and done NOTHING with them.

I am guilty of the greatest of Artistic Sins:  the Unfinished Creative Project.  Correction:  the Unfinished Creative Projects… plural.  I can attest from personal experience that there is hardly any worse feeling on this earth… imagine putting all your time and resources into a project… all your life, blood, and soul… and then… doing… nothing… with… it.

To say this SUCKS is the grossest understatement in the Universe.

Let’s look at this further.  Imagine a soul, a spiritual being, a cosmic traveler, making a decision, a truly magnificent decision that he is going to come to this Earthly plain, and here he is going to engage in some truly creative work… into which he will pour all his love and passion… and then he will share this creative work with the world, and it will be good.

But imagine that he does all of these things… almost.  Except that last part: and then he will share this creative work with the world, and it will be good. Because imagine that he just… sort of… leaves this part out.  (Whoops!)  Somehow, he just doesn’t manage to share that shit… instead, it just sits on his computer, and in his psyche, taking up space and parking rent-free like a brand new airplane covered in canvas sitting stupidly inside the airplane hanger.

And imagine, he doesn’t just fail to launch once… or twice… or three times… but on-goingly… for years.


And all of this because the designer of said magical airplane simply never pulled the trigger, never let the cat out of the bag so to speak, and never launched.  Whoops!  My mistake, I just somehow failed to press the power button after I spent thousands of days in the laboratory constructing this Frankenstein monster known as my art.  Whoops!   Golly, I’m not sure what came over me.  I guess I just sort of–


As if.  Believe me, there’s not one single day when I don’t think about this.  It haunts me, Ghost of Artistic Ambitions Past.

Fortunately, I have this blog, The Great Truth Teller, where I get to fall on my sword and proclaim my guilt.  Guilty as charged, your Honor!  I have fallen short of brilliance, so I lie before you, prostrate, and ask for your forgiveness.

Oh What Great Idiot I Be!

And now for Redemption:

Despite my ardor as I chastise myself, the fact is, I am more optimistic than ever.  I am so thankful to be able to write this post, and to tell the truth, and to… EFFING… move on.

That is my intention.  This is the turning point.




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