Hard to forgive myself for the error of being alive, I guess. I do love myself, maybe too much, and a lack of stimulation creates an insular sort of fixation.
An unhealthy thing, yknow.
Reversed the tracklisting, it sounds better that way. I'm getting positive feedback, but two friends I sent it to haven't said anything on it. I fear they're being too nice, they must tell me what they don't care for.
I can't demand or demean, is the thing. I need to look towards a better way.
I'll ask Cronkite anyways. I've only good things to say about Cronkite.
Peter doesn't really like me, he's a bit of a fairweather friend, but I don't care. I've a bit of a sick taste for social subterfuge. I get a kick out of irritating him, out of making him feel guilty for being a flake. He's got a hard life, I know he only entertains it because we're too alike. He hates that about me, I know it. And yet I think he knows, he's not got the upper hand on anything. There are no debts between friends, only love. Whether he likes that or not.
This album is a bit too good. I don't think it's accessible for most people. It's silly that I feel that way considering that friends I met on the internet seem to support my work more fervently than some of my day ones. Hmm.
No comments:
Post a Comment