I get all kinds of weird messages from people telling me I am this and that. Some good, some bad. Some offended and some appreciative of what I do. Yes i have made mistakes but I think that is a good thing. Yes I have sabotaged opportunities but I think that was necessary to feed my purity complex as a creator and worshipper of the divine muse. Yes I am self-obsessed but who isn’t? Social media is not a playground for the selfless, otherwise you wouldn’t spend so much time here waiting for reasons like me to pause your scroll.
If you think I will meet your ideals, think again. I won’t.
I will not casually throw a kitchen towel on my shoulder while speed chopping carrots and mingling with guests. I don’t chop and I don’t mingle. I will show up late in a stolen car with lipstick stains on my dress and trouble in my eyes.
And just when the dust begins to settle, I will break out the murder ballads.
Why? Because I can. That’s why success will probably never be for men like me. Success is too static and boring for the tiger blooded. Success is for business men. Busy-ness bumble bees buzzing around like flies around grizzly turds.
Artists don’t care about success. The only success we know is to keep creating and expressing. Take away everything else, none of it matters and all of it is replacable and transient. That is the game we play and it might not be fair.
People, money, awards, projects, parties, events, masks, costumes, uniforms. All of these are to be discarded when everyone has gone home anyways until there are no more presents left to open and you still want more. When the coaches, judges and opponents have all gone away, a fighter still remains.
I don’t have many friends, fans or followers left. They have almost all given up on me but for some reason you are still here. Or maybe this is new and exciting for you. Anyways, I appreciate you. And I think you know how this feels and that this is not just some stupid fame game PR brand machine. I wish it was.
I speak for you and sing for you. Maybe you are looking for a leader or a cult or someone to tell you it’s okay and who actually understands your loneliness. If you find one, let me know! I have plunged the depths of loneliness. My songs are the proof. Either as “markus nylund” or “vicevoids”. It’s really the same, doesn’t matter what you call it or who gets the credit. So not sure I meet your qualifications. I have no accomplishments but this very one here in this sentence. This is all the proof you need. Is the juice worth the squeeze? I don’t know, you tell me.
When I pull back and zoom out, I look at this and see something beautiful being created. Something that nobody is doing. Not like this. So even if nobody is listening and the music industry has permanently cast me out, I will continue to sing my songs, proudly and with gusto. So i guess its just you and me baby, against the world. We will never admit defeat.
People passing by on the street. Who is that strange man their children might wonder. Many years later they will remember this feeling… a kind of musical deja vu. In those moments where nothing makes sense anymore. Maybe at a party where everyone else is laughing and full of joy but you want to be anywhere else and even people you know suddenly become strangers. You feel the calling of the noose or the gun or the gas pipe or the bridge or maybe the foreign legion. In those moments of utter hopelessness there will be a little flower blooming in your heart that only reveals itself in the deepest darkness of despair.
I am that flower.