Okay, okay. / I'm putting Oxygene on first, by Jean Michel Jarre. This music was used in the film Gallipoli. Amazingly, it worked really well. I mean, a First World War film and electronic music shouldn't work at all.
My music? I'll have to finish that fifteenth song of mine soon. The music is good enough. Not great, but good enough. I reject too many ideas, man.
I'll record my new demo soon, too. Before Christmas. So, I'll be ready after Christmas. I'm finally sick of normal life - after nearly fifty years. It's time to be a rock star. An out-of-reality one, like David Bowie or Jim Morrison. Not like Bono or Chris Martin, you dig? However, one suited to my age, uh, like Karajan in that Beethoven Seventh symphony clip on YouTube. Eyes closed. Mystical ecstasy. Living large! Kook(s), you know what I mean.
I'm reprogramming myself. Well, I have been. I don't need those Grant Cardone books no more. Nor the Vance/Musk one. I've changed. I work hard now without having to force myself. The incantation helps a lot. It blocks out any negative thoughts. I've been ten days without a bad thought in my head. And I sleep less. I eat less. I've become a monster of massive action!
Anything I want, I will get. Watch out!
I'm looking forward - hang on! I want to switch to Eno's Apollo. Okay. As I was saying, I'm looking forward to Christmas. A week off blogging. Mince pies. The pub. A bit of TV. I'll be "normal" that week, for strictly sentimental reasons.
Before the storm. Because I'm not fucking around. / I could have done with this mentality thirty years ago. Never mind. You live and learn, don't you? Well, I do.
Brexit? I'm not even thinking about it. Do you know why? I'll tell you: Nothing in the world has got any connection to me.
My focus is my music. Anything that isn't my music will have a rough time of it from now on.
***Monomania***. Lap it up!
...
Okay, okay. / Good night, dear alligator(s)! I mean, later(s), crocodile(s)! Have a nice weekend!
My music? I'll have to finish that fifteenth song of mine soon. The music is good enough. Not great, but good enough. I reject too many ideas, man.
I'll record my new demo soon, too. Before Christmas. So, I'll be ready after Christmas. I'm finally sick of normal life - after nearly fifty years. It's time to be a rock star. An out-of-reality one, like David Bowie or Jim Morrison. Not like Bono or Chris Martin, you dig? However, one suited to my age, uh, like Karajan in that Beethoven Seventh symphony clip on YouTube. Eyes closed. Mystical ecstasy. Living large! Kook(s), you know what I mean.
I'm reprogramming myself. Well, I have been. I don't need those Grant Cardone books no more. Nor the Vance/Musk one. I've changed. I work hard now without having to force myself. The incantation helps a lot. It blocks out any negative thoughts. I've been ten days without a bad thought in my head. And I sleep less. I eat less. I've become a monster of massive action!
Anything I want, I will get. Watch out!
I'm looking forward - hang on! I want to switch to Eno's Apollo. Okay. As I was saying, I'm looking forward to Christmas. A week off blogging. Mince pies. The pub. A bit of TV. I'll be "normal" that week, for strictly sentimental reasons.
Before the storm. Because I'm not fucking around. / I could have done with this mentality thirty years ago. Never mind. You live and learn, don't you? Well, I do.
Brexit? I'm not even thinking about it. Do you know why? I'll tell you: Nothing in the world has got any connection to me.
My focus is my music. Anything that isn't my music will have a rough time of it from now on.
***Monomania***. Lap it up!
...
Okay, okay. / Good night, dear alligator(s)! I mean, later(s), crocodile(s)! Have a nice weekend!
