There are a lot of people working much harder than I am for the very same dreams that I want.

Maybe I have too many toxins flowing through my body.

Maybe I’ve been infected with too much you’re-good-enough-as you-are hippy BS.

Maybe I’m just in some type of limbo.

You see, what they don’t teach you in this world is that for most of us, reaching our dreams takes a long time and a whole lot of work, dedication and commitment.

In an American Idol country, this is NOT what we want to hear.

We want to be able to just wish our dreams true. But if you have a wish in one hand and a pile of shit in the other, what have you really got?

I was just reading an interesting blog entry by Seth Godin, about something pertaining to the new music industry and the long tail, but I am much too tired to go ranting about.

Instead I am listening to bands I admire who I’ve found because access to all sorts of music is exploding. I am trying to picture soothing white light around their bodies so that I can accept their successes, as Susan O’Doherty suggests here.

Ah, the life of a stifled artist is one best left to my own interpretation.

I have too much to say and too little time. I’m blasting out my corner in the world, I’m throwing around wrecking balls, I’m tearing down old buildings, planting crazy spider plants and birds of paradise so that I can build an expressive house of music, pictures and writing. It will be a rock from which I aim my talents at the world and say, “Here I am bitches. Come and get it,” in true Chapelle fashion.