And again my brain is empty, like a butterfly’s cocoon, the beauty having left long ago. Where there was once a rich Savannah of creativity, brimming with ideas and thoughts, there is now desolation; the drudgery of corporate life, like the poisoning of a landscape, having rendered it a charred and lonely wilderness. Yes, new ideas create brief, fleeting moments of exaltation, but they are very swiftly dissipated. Every idea like a candle’s faulty wick.
I sometimes tell people that I could have followed another path, you know, like maybe I could have become world ping-pong champion…but it’s who you know. A well trod joke, but one borne from a deep-rooted suspicion that I could have evolved and excelled at something worthwhile had I not been so solely fixated on music. But to excel on any path you need skill and an engaging personality to match and, while one can develop skill, personality can always be a hindrance…I know mine is. Let’s face it, being endearing is just not my forte. If you agree with me then fuck you.
And anyway, I’ve been beaten to it, my career diversity joke-turned-reality having already been realised by the artist known as Bob Dylan, the sculptor known as Brad Pitt, Tom Hardy the jujitsu champion and the actress, singer, dancer, record producer, songwriter, model, film producer, pianist and self re-inventor Lady Gaga. And what do they all have in common? They stole my fucking joke. I bet they’ve got nice personalities too.
