Artists: A Warning.

Words of warning: If you’re in the middle of a show, and you decide to be cute and answer the phone between songs, and it’s a woman screaming that her boyfriend is kicking her ass, and you respond with profanity and threats out of instinct on a HOT MIC…

Well, you can imagine the rest.

Non-artists don’t understand that our lives are continuous work; creation, practice, performances. They think just because you don’t have a “job” that you’re free for them to unload all their attention-seeking worries upon.

Anyone who repeats the same story more than three times isn’t seeking a solution. They’re seeking attention, especially after ten years of being a punching bag baby maker. I mean, if you sought out and continue to seek out the type of life that’s killing you, I can no longer express sympathy.

I have things to do, and babysitting adults isn’t one of them.

I no longer live the Trumpian, patriarchal, red-neck life, and can’t imagine why anyone would endure it willingly, so pick another number.

Anyway…turn your mic off before zoning back into the real world.

Lesson learned; problem solved.


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