I'm a Thief, and so am I

I'm not admitting to how I came across this, but you can rest assured it was  a) electronic & b) accidental. And it rhymes with Blue Lube.

Dangle a carrot (or in this case, a cupcake) in front of someone who is hungry or bored, and they will inevitably bite. {side note: the exception to this rule must be Madonna herself-- Our Lady of Self-Discipline.} So yeah, I listened to this unreleased track from Madonna's last album and I kinda feel shitty about it. Not about the song itself, which is fine-- no comments on the content or quality of the track. I feel shitty that I never should have heard that song. It never should have been there to listen to. Should be locked in some vault in some sunken ship. Or that's what I presume. Sometimes I think the artists or management themselves must be somehow wrapped up in certain 'leaks' because its incomprehensible to me that the Madonna Organization could lose control of stuff. She invented control!

I feel horrible that artists lose control of their property like this, but maybe its time to rethink intellectual property. Especially in an era where mechanical reproduction take milliseconds. No hard feelings, k? Fans don't see the other side of the argument-- they just want more... and more... and dangerously more.

I guess artists need to redraw the lines - with content being delivered at the speed of thought, we're going to be crossing the existing lines to the point of erasing them.

Old Timey Bloggetorium (vintage brain vom)

Since I sobered up from New Year's, I have been the opposite of happy. The opposite of enthusiastic. The opposite of optimistic. Yet, definitely not the opposite of #ILOVELIFE... Unless the opposite of #ILOVELIFE is #YOUHATEDEATH -- which may or be not be true; I'm in no way qualified to make that claim on your behalf. So you tell me...

It's possible that I feel this way every year at this time-- my band typically exists in a ball of stress until after our big Valentine's Day show is over. This year is no different-- but there are additional stressors in my life, working against me. I don't want to give them an inch, but its a tug-of-war; everytime I gain an inch on my side, feels--feels like I lose two inches to the dark side. The chaos of getting the show coordinated sucks out my brain; the stress of coordinating songs and rehearsals with the supergroup sucks out my heart. I feel in previous years that I fought this feeling (REO speedwagon, anyone?!) up until the end, but this year I'm starting off in the dumps. Awe*some.

I feel as though I just need one person to look up to-- someone in my circle who is doing & being as I want to do & be; someone to show me that it's possible, that it's okay. It's going to be okay. I want to see a track full of hurdles before me that lights me up because I know I'm going to jump those mutherfuckers. Today, I'm staring at the track from the sidelines, wearing Nike & Adidas (hey, I'm a hometown kinda girl), waiting to psych myself UP. Waiting to be inspired. Waiting to be motivated. Waiting. There is a Godot joke to be made here-- an unfunny Godot joke. There's NO one to look to; I don't know anyone who is doing & being what I want to do & be; so it falls to me... what is more cruel than reality?

I'll delete this in a day, when my mood swings up and I no longer want to be reminded of this. I'd thank myself for listening, but it'd be a waste of e-breath. ;)

#ILOVELIFE