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And Now a Word From Our Penniless Poet

Pardon the interruption, friends and neighbors, but ​​I would like to take a moment and use the internet machine to pretend-publicly declare to any of you fabulously real people who care that I feel it is one of the greatest accomplishments of my life to have spent the whole of today not making a dime toggling between working hard at the piano and diving deeper into the life-sucking and, frankly, at times discouraging business-side of being an indie-artist to the point that it all feels so impossibly isolating you can't help but question if it's worth it but you just keep at it with gratitude and give all the oppressive, digitized shite your best and then you go back to the piano and plug away at this new song you believe in and really love to play and sing until suddenly—out of what you allow yourself to revel in as Nowhereland but know is Mission Control on Discipline Island—you realize that the reason you couldn't come up with words to the bridge for freaking-ever is because you're meant to use that spot to play the chord changes while speaking the words to a poem composed by one of the greats a million moonbeams ago and that tonight, on January 30th, 2016, just "happen" to fit into your song's vision as snug as a lyrical bug in the rug that you're about to go lie your ass down on and sip wine as you work shit out to Miles Davis on vinyl with your golden best pal because hey look at that—bam! WORTH IT is a thing called life. hashtag follow your bliss, kids aaaaaaaand now back to our regularly scheduled present moment

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