Just thoughts and words, man, for the last post of the week, like. I've got PR emails. I haven't looked at them. Maybe next week.
Why have I been writing this blog for so long? Because it's the best thing for a loner. Music and poetry mean engaging with the world to some degree. Never mind. I will try my best to cope.
Watching Glastonbury ... man, I don't know. I can't imagine me getting on with people like that.
Poetry is better for loners. Larkin wasn't really connected with the poetry scene, even though he was so successful and famous. He just worked in a university library, and wrote two or three poems a year - when he was in the mood, like.
I don't know.
I want to write a dozen a year. Or twenty. All killer!
'No filler, Mikey!'
Do you know, kook(s)?
Oh, I've been thinking about Elon again. It's fine that he wants to work a hundred hours a week. It's great, even. However, it winds me up that he and other billionaires seem to think their employees should do the same hours. I mean, their attitude is, "Look at me, guys! I'm setting an example. I'm the leader, working one hundred hours a week. So ... be like me, yeah?"
Yeah, yeah, Elon, Bill. Jeff, too.
But imagine you're working in one of Jeff's warehouses ... What's your reward for packing things in boxes, seven days a week, sixteen hours a day? Let me tell you. After a year, you'll be promoted to supervisor. 'Yippee!' [Shut up.] Well, okay. That's nice. But where's your yacht, man? Where are your billions? Where are your space rockets? Where is your fame? Er ... Nowhere! All that shit is nowhere because you're a supervisor in a warehouse.
You dig?
And I noticed this same attitude in the Alexander film. The Great guy wanted his men to go further into India to conquer more land and achieve more glory. Well, hats off to Alexander the Great because - unlike today's general cowards - he was in the front line of every battle. Scars all over his body! Fair enough. Got to respect that. However, over two thousand years later, the world only remembers Alexander. The glory was his. It wasn't shared. All his brave men have been forgotten.
Uh.
Just saying, man.
Never mind.
Basically, what I'm saying is ... if you want to achieve stuff, do it on your own. Don't drag innocent individuals into your dreams.
Your dream might be someone else's nightmare. Unless you're in a band like The Beatles, where a team achieves together on the same level.
So, uh ...
Be like Picasso. Stay in your studio. Paint!
Be like Beethoven. Real moody with the tunes!
Be like me, a lonely poet ... wandering the cliffs, and beaches, and fields, and lanes ... with a pen and a notepad.
Not even a laptop!
And, uh ...
By the way, if you are working in one of Jeff's warehouses as a supervisor ... don't say the people working under you are ... "My team".
They're not your team, man. They're Jeff's team. All of them. Even the guy who sweeps the floor. Even the lady who makes the tea. Your team is an illusion that Jeff allows because it puts more money in his pocket.
Jeff is very happy for you to believe it's your team.
Do you understand???
Christ.
Now, I don't know why I got on to this subject, but I said "whatever", didn't I?
Ah ...
I'll be a poet soon.
I'll be sitting on a rock, facing the sea ... 24/7 ... really putting the hours in ... because I'm a workaholic.
Ha, ha, ha!
ENDS
