The Damage Is Done But Don't Worry

One of the tenants in my building went nuts and smashed up his room yesterday. He smashed the windows and the walls and I heard that the police had to pick him up and lock him away in the psych ward. He hasn't lived at my building as long as I have. He's only been there for about a year. I've been there for five years. It's not an easy place to live. The rooms can be quite uncomfortable and there is nothing to do but sit and rot for most of the month. There is no place to go outside but soup lines. So the stress of this kind of life built up on him to a point where he broke down and succumbed to violence. And even though he was a problem tenant, I feel his pain and I pity him. I feel the pain of those around me, so I have a hard time being happy in my location. He doesn't have the added stress of a major band that steals his music and poetry coming to play two sold out shows here. He wouldn't get nightmares from seeing Blue Rodeo's name on a giant electric billboard to tell him that there are thousands of people here eagerly paying money to support the theft of his music and leaving him to sell his amplifier to simply be able to afford to visit a lawyer about it. And he didn't suffer like I did this past summer at the hands of another major band that stole my music, Nickleback, after I already exposed their fraud with my reconstruction of Fool's Paradise in 2014. And what does Nickleback call me again? Oh yeah, a pussy. You must have thought they were cool for calling me that, judging from all the money you gave them to steal my music. I awoke from another troubling dream at three o'clock this morning, which I will not bother to share here. I couldn't get back to sleep. I'm so deeply hurt by this Blue Rodeo concert at this late stage. This horrible crime is leaving deep ugly scars on my heart. The scars were just starting to form from Nickleback's having a two year go at slashing away with your support for two years and now it must be Blue Rodeo's turn. I wonder how many years it will take to get Blue Rodeo out of the way. I wonder if there will be anything left of my love for humanity by the time they are finished slashing away at my heart with their fraud and all of you cheering them on. Hey? Blue Rodeo's coming to town! How exciting! We need them to come here because we don't have enough talent here, right? Especially now that Nickleback seems to be unable to give you the kind of entertainment you love made out of my music. Well, I hope you Blue Rodeo fans are all ready to celebrate their crime by sticking it to me in the streets again. While they're having sex, you women all get out there on the sidewalk with your boyfriends where I can see you and be reminded of what I can't have. And you children must dream up some new nasty names to call me. Maybe you'll find them in a MAD Magazine from the Vancouver Public Library. And do you need to read any poetry? Didn't I write a great poem called The Creed or something like that? Maybe now you can enjoy that from the person who stole it and lied to you with it. You don't need me to entertain you. You need me to bleed for you and cry and moan and die for you. You need me to suffer a major stroke for you so you can make sure I never get one good thing for my love in all the long years that I've been putting it out for you. It must be so much more gratifying for you to destroy my hope with your love for these horrible frauds than it is for you to reward me for my hard work. I wonder if you were like that to start with or if your broadcasters have made you that way by turning those evil bastards into such stars with my songs and poems and comedy scripts. Well, I'm just a few days away from my first visit with the lawyer here and you need not envy me if I end up rich. This crime has wounded me so deeply that it will make me miserable for the rest of my life. I'm never going to trust anyone now and if someone is smiling and acting like they are my friend I am just going to think they are full of shit. I wasn't like that before. I used to trust people. I used to have faith in humanity. And I don't think it's worth all the money in the world to have my love destroyed by a crime such as this. I would rather be able to be like I was before. If I can't love freely, it diminishes my own life. Money is a cheap compensation for that kind of spiritual loss. I might as well complete my music chronology today to include the year 2016, the worst year of my life yet. I'm praying for the same stroke that you are causing with your support for these miserable crimes with my music. I want to be released from this horrible world. Time to go and sell my amp now after I bought it in 2010 with such good hopes of having a music career here. Eight years later you'd all still rather pay a band to steal my songs and lie to you with them. Now you're doing it consciously. Perhaps you've always known that these bands steal my songs but you just needed to make me suffer. Enjoy your rotten hate party with another creepy fraud band that steals my music. What else do you ever celebrate around here? At least this nightmare you want me to have every night for as long as I live will end when I die and leave this world. They say that fifty-something is a good age for heart attacks. My grandfather died of a heart attack in his fifties. They say that kind of thing skips a generation. I hope so. 12:00pm: I sold the amp back to the store. Between that money and my dead dad's monthly and all the other money I have I will be able to follow through on my promise to that lawyer. That gives me something to live for. I'm actually relieved to unload that fifty pound monster. It had power but it was too warm for my computerized metal sound, I think. I'll be picking up a crispier sounding solid state amp to replace it, a lighter one too. With that stress out of the way, and hats off to the gentlemen at the guitar department for their courtesy, I feel a little more positive and I would like to leave you on a happier note. First of all, I'm sorry to anyone who does not want me dead. I am alone at this moment in a public place and I feel like I'm invisible. I lugged that amp this morning onto the bus and was only noticed by one person who shouted 'shove that amplifier!' from the street as I struggled to board the bus with it on the corner of Main and Hastings. More smashing from down the hall when I went home earlier. This kind of stress builds up on you, and when you feel like you are totally alone all the time, you feel more secure about releasing your grief in a torrent. You feel like no one is listening to you when you are telling them that you are being strangled to death by crimes against your work and your image right in front of them. You're living on the brink of death and it's hard to stay casual about it. But I can't help loving people and I will never stop loving people and thinking of the human soul as a noble thing. You are my bothers and sisters and I can't help loving you and wanting to please you. I hope I've made you happy with at least most of what I have shared here. If it wasn't creative, at least it was hopefully enlightening. I'll have a lawyer to talk to soon and may not need to share so much on the web about my situation. And I haven't really given you a break from my life in a long time now, though those frauds haven't given me a break in eight years either, have they? Here I am going straight from dealing with the metal Nickleback stole from me to having to recall the acoustic songs Blue Rodeo stole from me. (I might be off on that poem title. Maybe I simply heard the word 'greed' in reference to that band.) Perhaps we both need some time off. Sometimes I read my poetry to help me feel better about my life. Here's a good one for that. The Lover The boy had been born with a generous heart And poured it into his music and art Believing his parents' pride certainly won But his father found no self comparison As a man he plied women with verse and song They liked to be near him but didn't stay long The bittersweet strains of his cheap guitar Offered no competition against a new car At last he reached out to the whole world wide Hoping to win a few fans to his side In droves they responded by kissing the hand Of the one who defamed him to shine in a band His parents' love was a love for their own His women's love more for a precious stone His music's fans tricked into loving a fraud And increased by it all was the true love of God Footnote: Saturday, January 28, 2017 10:57am So is everyone all ready for the big Blue Rodeo concert today? I've been busy as a beaver at home with the enormous task of steering my index links to my offline web pages in my offline copy of this blogger account - complete with embedded music videos, vlogs and images. I took me all week, but I finished today. I've started a new blog at home called Offline Rhythm and I'm saving them for sharing at some future date when I can feel secure about sharing my new work on the web. Incidentally, who is this fellow I've been hearing about who has been bragging about his hits? If I heard about it, he must have stolen them from me. Did anyone flag him yet? Well, I'm sure he won't get far with my music now that I am talking to lawyers. I must edit my statements and scripts this morning to make small corrections that I picked up from my offline file structure. I feel pretty good overall these days. I feel like my time of glory is approaching. Hope you are all well. 11:54am: That's good enough. I won't be able to include these final two paragraphs at home though. That's okay, I'm ahead by a few blogs there. I also feel that this will be a bumper year for new songs for me. I expect to write as many as fifty new songs this year, but I won't be sharing them until I know they are secure. Good bye and God bless. Hope to meet you out there.
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