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Grateful For Hell? Really?

I’ve been worrying

That our constant need to be entertained

Has us


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??”


“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!”


Playing the same 12 songs

For ungrateful consumers





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 . . .?


Well, fuck.

But it probably won’t be as bad as being a musician, will it?


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