Paying Some More

Here I am again to show how I pass my time in front of everyone's eyes. I don't hide anything, like when I'm working on a song or traveling across the country or something. I'm open. If I'm unable to prosecute violations of my copyright at the moment it's because I can't find the permanent record. Where is it? What's the use of having a permanent record if we can't use it? Are others allowed to use it? When can I use it? Why are they afraid? And what's the point of even starting a search on a web page that falsely reports my views and comments? It sure does weigh down the soul to consider this stuff. What have I got to live for right now? I'm an artist who can't trust the internet enough to share my work on it. All I've gotten for my songs and laughs is six years of pure misery and now I have to expect no profit from it. Am I supposed to kill myself or something? Yes, I'm such a monster! I deserve to die by my own hand! I'm a disabled bum when I'm unemployed but I'm not an artist when I get a job. And my extreme positions, though uncomfortable, are necessary. Crimes have been committed against me, but I have only divine justice to lean on at the moment. It took an obscene failure of earthly justice to make me seek refuge in God. I'd rather have more faith in people. I'm a creative person who sings and plays and draws and laughs and I hope I can collect disability so I can spend the rest of my life in a building with addicts and mental patients and everyone can think I'm a drug addicted mental patient. But I'll keep my work to myself so that the people on the radio and TV won't make everyone think I stole it. Maybe when I die they can finally give me credit for my work with the assurance that I won't be able to collect any payment for it. There's something to smile about.
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