Smoke Hemlocks

Are you a smoker disenchanted with the kind of lingering death that awaits you? Maybe you should switch to Hemlocks, the brand of choice for artists and philosophers. Hemlocks kill you fast, keeping their packages free of unsightly advertisements. In a few puffs they can deliver the kind of experience that takes decades to get from smoking ordinary tobacco. They cut out the bill for health care, leaving only the coroner's modest fee. And smokers save money, too, because they can't buy cigarettes after they're dead. So if you must smoke, do it right. Smoke Hemlocks. The above is the work of a cigarette smoking artist who dabbles in philosophy and who currently wishes that he could end his life with a few puffs of his next cigarette. It isn't the first time he felt this way and it probably isn't the first time he shared this feeling online in these particular words. Did someone on TV who doesn't smoke say that they made it up? Well I better think of something different then. How about an ad about a blogger who kills himself with his blogs? Would everyone believe that I wrote that? Even though I'm not on TV instead of here writing blogs? My heart has received such a stabbing now that I don't have the spirit to stab back. Let the betrayal end where it left me broke and homeless and hopeless and with a black hole of unbearable memories to carry with me into the future. I'll just take it from here. I'll try not to think about the compensation I deserve for all the senseless hate that has been directed against me and for the unprovoked assault on my work and my image as I spend my days alone on a public library computer defending against false accusations and devote my remaining time to escaping reality through sleep. And as long as I keep wearing earplugs for the rest of my life, I can pretend that the whole world shuns me because I'm a deaf mute. Why couldn't someone kill me when I deleted all that stuff? It's been just lovely how this has all been handled. Am I to understand that production workers were assigned to my security when they were known to have had a hand in the commitment of music fraud with my songs? Whose idea was that? And were women who were known to have stayed loyal to those song players supposed to be my groupies? Whose idea was that? And do my initial posts on YouTube and/or Google not belong to their author? And if they could celebrate without me, why couldn't they make a crank call without me? Why couldn't they vent their hate without me? Why couldn't they take an artist's dream and turn it into a nightmare without me? Look how I am forced to spend all my time reflecting on this horror that feeds on itself and becomes worse and worse. You may think that the party happened without me, but I feel deeply involved in it because of the injuries I sustained. What would happen if I wanted to cross the border to perform a few songs? Have they been turned into corporations with more rights than I have? I need a lawyer who could at least assure me of my safety when traveling abroad, but so far all I've been told in so many words is that my fate depends on the Wayback Machine, as if this limited resource were some definitive authority. Do I have to study PERL for ten years so I can write a computer program that can retrieve the evidence I need? Then do I have to study law for the next ten years before I can effectively use this evidence? How much time will I have left for music? I'm already in my late forties. Why wasn't it this hard for so many others to get paid for my work? So I'm sorry I rewrote so much old material that I erased the first time; I'm sorry for myself. I'm sorry that I can't erase it now and forget I ever wrote it. I already tried that. I'm sorry that God couldn't give my talent to all these people who want to be stars instead of to an artist who mostly wanted create good work. I'm sorry the economy would rather profit from lies than prevent them. I'm sorry I haven't killed myself yet and I expect to be sorrier about it tomorrow. Which brings me to my final point. How would you describe the tone of my music and comedy? Suicidal? It doesn't sound like that to me. It sounds fun. That's because I wrote it out of a desire to celebrate, not from a wish to kill myself. If I created it from a wish to kill myself, the music would sound gloomy and the writing would consist of tragedies rather than comedies. So these enjoyable works of mine were used to lighten all your hearts so that others could be paid money and so you as their fans could reject me. I'm not responsible for how others use my work. I'm only responsible for creating it and sharing it. And creating and sharing songs and sketches to help us all feel good should certainly not be punished. As it turns out I create from an inner impulse which sustains my output through terms of unpopularity. It's kind of like being strapped to an electric chair with the current on a low setting.
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© 2013. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.