Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Social Media Addiction

I pretty much need help because I have developed a bad social media addiction. I would feel humiliated to reveal the full extent of it. I don’t know how it crept up on me exactly, perhaps total isolation in a freezing cold house (no heat) made a warm bubbly place full of strangers feel too cozy to pass up.

Part of what makes it addicting could be the inability to ever quite get what I am looking for… but what am I looking for? I don’t know. I feel confused. Yesterday I tried flirting with a couple of the fake widowers who are all over facebook trying to scam women for money. One was Nigerian and one was Arabic, I think. (Both pretended to be American.) They were condescending assholes. I assumed if you were trying to take someone’s money you would have to sweet talk them a little. Instead they called me names like “Big Fat Liar” and insisted I was “dead wrong” about the meaning of the color red. (Howard was sure it meant love, while I was certain it meant the blood of the martyrs.) They were dominating though. I kind of liked that. And I can’t remember the last time a person asked me about my favorite color was or what I liked to do for fun. So that was nice.

Maybe I will start talking to these scammers more until I understand how their minds work. Then I could maximize the amount of attention I get before revealing that I have no money. (They dump you at that point.) When I told Howard I had no money he said I must be lying. After all ‘You are an artist.’ I had to convince him that singing a song does not magically cause money to appear.

I wonder if I would like scamming people for money? Criminals seem to use more of their brains than the insects who just get caught in their webs. Maybe I want to be the web spinner for once. Maybe it would feel amazing.

At any rate, I may try writing more on this website to see if it can help me break my addiction. But I feel I will be annoying people if I write too much here. At least on social media anything you say is ancient history within a few hours. But I worry it is rewiring my brain. My attention span seems to be getting shorter and shorter and I have started to think in soundbites. Plus, it brings out the part of my personality that plays too much to the crowd until eventually I have no idea what I am saying or why. I don’t know if I am speaking my own thoughts or just the thoughts that someone somewhere is suppressing.

The good part, though, is that it is more out of control while my website is entirely under my control. I don’t really like being in control. I guess that is ultimately what I am seeking there. I want someone else to take me to a place that is new to me. But that never happens. There are many people there, but generally they all say the same things. It is impersonal. No money changes hands. I liked it when Howard said “Music softens the spirit.” That was at least something I had never heard before. And I appreciated it that he was trying to rob me, in a sense. At least he was trying to do something.

Categories
Dusty Stables Music & Songs

A Fool is a Tool

 

 

Fiesta self-portrait. Julien in studio.Another one of my first “Dusty Stables” songs that would have been lost to the sands of time if James hadn’t pulled up the lyrics on his computer the other day…

This may be the only song I’ve ever written that is intended to convey a positive message…

well, I guess it is not so much a positive message as a desperate question…

I wrote this song after having to declare bankruptcy from making a series of outrageous purchases, ranging from $500 garbage cans to $5000 shirts in an effort to achieve financial stability via the law of attraction. Really, I think I had suffered a financial break with reality when I got married and had to assume my husband’s six-figure debt, something that seemed soul crushing given my $20,000 yearly income. Not to mention that he wanted Porsche’s and caviar and fine dining experiences and it seemed that his spirit would leave this earth if I could not find a way to provide them…

I suppose I could be grateful that my desperation drove me towards the purple end of the insanity spectrum (fantastical thinking) rather than the red and black end of crime and violence.

I remember having to go to court to declare bankruptcy… I was so scared and my legs were shaking… it seemed impossible to go through with it. But in the end the judge was a light & cheery man who just said, “Oh you’re an artist. Well, great! You’re free to go. Keep up the good work!” It felt like he was congratulating me. Sometimes I really love California.

 

Download MP3: A Fool Is a Tool