If I were a self indulgent, deeply troubled rockstar..

Waking up, re-entering the conscious realm of existance has a certain weight to it after producing a few records. The knowledge that there are people, and several people, I'd say thousands of people "out there" who are depending on you to add that extra hint of purpose to their lives, is rather flattering to the self esteem. I'm not sure how you'd weigh purpose. I'm not sure what kind of effect my early retirement would have on these people, but I'm fairly sure there'd be disappointment and quite possibly a lessening of purpose in some peoples' lives if I decided I'd had enough. I could decide that today. I could deal with the invasive assumptions of the press anytime really. I have the potential to cause widespread disapointment. Because I know I was disapointed. When Buckley, when Cobain decided to call it quits, to exit the scene. Curtis made the call right before the great tour to the US. That's a disapointment. That, is one hell of a statement. It makes me think about how far in I can go before the pressure becomes too much.

I talk about my fans dependence on me, on my release of another record for people to consume, but more significantly, it is I who depends on them. They can disappoint me with a negative reception just as much as I can disapoint them with shite music or to a greater extent, my end. How long will I keep pushing before this realistic concept becomes mentally unbearable? It makes me want to go back to sleep.

The pills go down with a reassurring ease and I fall backwards, roll over. Tell them I'm not ready yet. They're waiting. But I'm not ready yet.