Take My Life Please

My life is so miserable now that I wish I would have been executed on false charges. Leaving me alive and alone at this time is pure sadism. They gave my songs to a band of roadies. They gave my blogs to late night television and Sunday night cartoons. They let posers malign me so everyone could hate me while my work was broadcasted. How am I supposed to move forward? Am I supposed to have hope? Am I not allowed to see my own work which was cashed in behind my back by greedy broadcasting networks and music labels? But it was already used as evidence to send a band to prison! How can I rest as long as this powerful evidence is in the hands of corporations? I'd rather be recording my new song this morning. What choice do I have? Thanks to greedy, fearful corporations and their desperate need to keep up a false appearance of decency, I have to match the output of a whole news network every day to combat their huge, coordinated smear campaign. If one of their stars said something against me, it doesn't matter if he's wrong, it only matters how it looks. They want you to trust them as they tell your children about the good guys and the bad guys. I don't care about what's left of my image, I just want to die. I can't take this anymore. I wrote songs people like and they blocked me from singing them. I wrote laughs and I was almost thrown in jail for them. Can I have peace now? No, I have to defend myself. Why? My reputation is unjustly put on trial every second month. I'm not here to live it up on Blogger, I'm stuck here. The only way out for me is death. Don't think of my suicide as a failure. I've been falsely accused and subjected to extreme punishments when all I did was create music and share my own life in my own words. A world that unjustly punishes an innocent artist is a loser world, and anyone who rejects a loser world is a winner. I bet if enough people simply ended their lives as I intend to, the business would have to clean up its act. It can't rule over a population of corpses. No more lying and cheating and stealing. No more committing crimes in public and using the propaganda machine to get away with it. We've all got to die one day. I can't wait. I have nothing on my conscience. Scientists aren't doing me any favours by lengthening the human lifespan. Mom, I'm sorry I didn't go to see you in the hospital. I know that you feel better about me when I keep my distance from you. I didn't turn out like all your other children. It might be because I haven't been watching enough television. Maybe we can meet in the next world. I don't think anything good can happen in this world. And it's all right, I know you trust my siblings more than you trust me. They know how to get a job and fit in. I'm not allowed to get a job. When I get a job everyone says I sold out. I go broke as an artist, but I'm called a sellout when I try to work a shift or two on a forklift for milk money. Mom, I wish you would have taken that birth control pill. And Dad, it's too bad you had to go overseas and fight a bloody war against Nazis if people were just going to turn around and call your son Hitler because some TV stars couldn't write their own comedy scripts. Let me tell you about the most important day of your life. It isn't the day you were on TV. It isn't the day someone you know got signed to a major label. It is the day you die. When this day comes you want to face eternity with confidence. You want to know that you lived your life here without causing others harm. If you're an artist, you want to know that you created all your own work and that you did it from a fine motive. If you're a business person, you want to know that you didn't cheat anyone. It seems that the business wants to punish me for caring about my soul. I don't know how those honest sounding bands made it in the past, but as long as they leave me like this, I don't look forward to the next big thing. Do you still trust them? By driving me to suicide, do they have your best interests at heart? Wouldn't it profit their interests in protecting their family friendly image more than your interests in having my new songs and my new laughs from the only person who knows how to create them? Here I am all poised and ready to build and improve on past works and they're more interested in salvaging their precious reputation than in helping me to deliver these new works to you, the consumer. In a couple of short years I produced all that work over which my life on Earth now hangs in the balance. I could produce twice that much in half the time if they would only help me create my work as much as they helped others plunder it. If you like my work, it's you they betray. The way things are going I'll be taking all my future work to my grave because it's the only place left for me to go. What image should I try to project as I lie on a bunk in a homeless shelter with no money and fantasize about killing myself? Am I on track with the whiskers or should we call in the makeup artist? What's the appropriate image for an artist on the brink of death? I'm sure I have it wrong. I may have covered all this in a dismissed past entry. I'm trapped in a grim cycle: I start out unpopular, then I'm popular, then the TV and radio are popular, then I'm unpopular again. This gives way to a sub-cycle: I reject the business and I'm not cool, I reject the business and I'm cool, the business rejects the business and they're cool, I reject the business and I'm not cool again. The only way out of this the last time was to erase everything and forget I ever wrote it. Too bad I couldn't erase myself.
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