Grateful For Hell? Really?
I’ve been worrying
That our constant need to be entertained
Has us
Dehumanizing
The creators of the content.
Two ladies sit next me
Complaining about the worst concerts they’d ever been to.
“He didn’t play one single song people actually knew!”
“Oh wow. How horrible.”
“All he did was play all of his songs from his new album. Everyone there hated it.”
“You should’ve gotten your money back.”
“We booed him when he was done. Can you believe that??”
“Unbelievable.”
“And he didn’t even come back to play the songs that we actually enjoy!”
“He should’ve issued an apology to y’all.”
“There are just some moments that stick with you forever, you know?”
“Oh, absolutely! It sounds traumatic.”
“. . . You know what?! It was traumatic!”
“What a waste of money.”
“It really was!”
Imagining
Playing the same 12 songs
For ungrateful consumers
Over
And
Over
And
Over again
For 20-40 years
And if you try
To grow as artist
If you change as a human
They’ll hate you for it
They only want what they want.
It sounds like
Hell on earth
But they’ll tell you
To be grateful
That you even have fans
That’ll pay money to see you
Grateful for the parasites?
In exchange for money?
They want to watch you perform in hell
So they can be significantly entertained for a few hours
And then they want you to be grateful for that hell.
What the hell??
Good thing I am a writer
And I don’t have to deal with that shit yet
Yet . . .?
Yet.
Well, fuck.
But it probably won’t be as bad as being a musician, will it?
-C.H.