Now it may just be that it's 1:48 am on a Monday and I am menstruating, but I am so disturbed by rock culture specifically, and on a larger scale, the cult of celebrity. Not the music itself, but the world of overindulgence and self glorification that performs it. I can't tell you how disappointing my experience became while in the middle of it, marred of course by unspeakable self-destructive acts on my part, another victim of the boys club we all unwittingly follow. Ultimately, I came, I saw, and I decided I'm not such a fan after all.
I watch others I befriended along the way. I listen as they continue to follow while I turned around and went home. Their determination to find success and adoration keeps them blind enough to enjoy the journey, where my independence made me unable to continue to be subservient in exchange for recognition. Recognition. The very word makes me irritable now. Why do they need so much recognition? Why did I?
They'll be in town again shortly. I wish they'd stay away, but money beckons and they come a running. I half expect a phone call that week. I'll be told pretty lies that were true once, but have since lost value...
It's late. I'm tired of thinking of it. I'm tired of being angry and fearful. I hate rock stars that aren't women. I'm tired of hiding from them, tired of being hunted like an animal. Like a pet. A possession. The waiting, the wanting. It's a waste of my time.
But how does one avoid something as pervasive as music? How do I avoid reminders that are everywhere I look, in every magazine, every radio station, every blog, and on everyone's lips? It is easy for me to walk away, but what do you do when the thing to be avoided keeps walking toward you?
1:48 a.m. - 2008-01-28