The good thing about depression is that it helps me see things more clearly and refines my focus. Or at least pushes me to. Forcing me to change things (which always end up being for the better in hindsight). It’s a mad rush of inspiration too although this is kind of cruel because the physical anxiety is not pleasant to deal with. I guess that’s what happens when all the creative forces start working. Have been writing lyrics again today (these sometimes turn into songs) which I haven’t done for awhile because I’ve been too busy ‘enjoying’ life and smiling, socialising and having fun (all which are terrible for creativity). This is how it usually works. These dark moods are usually the breeding ground for the sunlight that shines within and which lights up the road ahead. So when I hear “dont be so melodramatic markus”, “think positively”, “dont think too much” I try to remember that these comments will one day transcend into compliments for the songs and shows. Interesting how that works. These days I’m even getting paid for it! My art is not fueled by joy, it is fueled by unhappiness. I am generally a very unhappy person. Except when I am in party mode.
After playing last weekends show—which I was very unsatisfied with, I realised that playing digital piano really fucks with my stage feng-shui. So I will never do it again. Until I can afford to pay for musicians to do what I want them to do, I will just perform with my guitar and voice and my evil greyhoud spirit like my dark poet ancestors before me whose paths I continue where they left off (robert johnson, hank williams, nick drake, kurt cobain, townes van zandt, elliott smith). I might be the only man in this world who has what it takes to carry on the blues tradition and keep it alive. My god of course is Charles Bukowski because he was the only one who managed to break through the heartbreak of existence and find a way to live with the artist curse.
I’m a terrible collaborator when it comes to music. I just don’t really like doing it. On stage or off stage. Music is such a private thing for me. But actually it goes beyond music. This is probably why I don’t really fit in anywhere nor like to be part of any gang or posse. I just dabble and drift in and out of different social circles never really belonging to any of them. I’m a gypsy soul who doesn’t like to stay in one place too long. Right now I am trying really hard to overcome my typical need for self-sabotage and career suicide because I want to get to a point where money starts rolling in without me having to slave away and always start from square one. If I don’t get past this point (where I have been before), I will forever be stuck in this grey area of being this uknown promise.
I also don’t want to get married or start a family. My songs are my children; my elusive inspiration my main mistress; booze is my elixir. They are enough of a burden and responsibility for me. Until they’re here, nothing can ever replace them. And when they are gone, I will be gone. That said, I have this feeling that there is a girl out there who will make me forget… about everything. Maybe she is even in my life already.