The past two years for me have been a weird period of self-doubt and demotivation. It eventually manifested into this.
This is not an open letter, it’s not designed to annoy
It’s not a subtweet, like most things these days it’s a shout into the void
And after two years of nothing I know you have no reason to care
But bear with me, while I make sense of the million thoughts I have to share
I’m getting weary of the purgatory I built
I don’t think myself tall, but I’m still walking on stilts
For the validation of people who give me pitying looks
Because they could move past the event that felt like it took everything.
It’s exhausting seeing another video titled “Things Have Changed”
From the people that changed them, while forgetting the ones they used to praise
They’ll tolerate you, but they won’t ask you to collab
But what they don’t see is how many times your back's already been stabbed.
I'm tired of hearing them say the only way to succeed today
is to stray from the beaten path that led to their vocation
You know you’re full of it, I know you’re full of shit
I am the beaten path, I AM YOUR FOUNDATION!
Exaggeration, the credit isn't mine
I know I'm not the trailblazer I keep building up in my mind
Because others have been doing this since 2005
And the next generation is beginning to thrive
But I've put in some time; I've seen the rise and decline
Of artistic integrity, creative longevity
Now you die an artist, or you live to be a personality
I'm sorry if that upsets you, but that's our reality
Since we let stats become the metric for our vanity
This platform was the first to quantify fame
And since then it’s been nothing but a numbers game
And the numbers can depend on the friends that you've made
Which means the coat-tails I rode have become completely frayed
Because your friends can go into exile, and you can go into debt
You find a job writing about your other friends to pay your rent
Poor little rockstar, his well dried up
Because he invested his success in narcissistic fuck-ups
I've taken a far too long to wallow and suffer
Let my swan song be a ukulele cover
I paid the piper threefold for the sins of my brothers
But did I struggle to eat so you'd dismiss me as another fucking
Wash out, has been useless hack?
Fuck your labels, and fuck calling this a comeback
I never went away, I just changed shape, I gained some weight but I'm doing great
But you look down on me because I've struggled to create?
I made the call to push myself up a different hill
It’s not the path I wanted but I’ll walk it before I’m caught standing still
My channel is a byline, my camera became keys
I’m still creating every day, even if it’s not for me
But there’s the doubt; is it really worth shit
If my creative output is based on someone else's monthly targets?
And if I came back to this there’s still the question of why
This community would really have missed the voice of another straight white guy
The best minds of our generation are young and diverse
And they inspired me to throw together this stupid verse
Just to prove there’s still some fuel left in the tank
And if I burn out, I’ll rise from the ashes just to say "Thanks".
Thanks for taking the time,
As they say in my hometown “please like, comment and subscribe"
Because on this foundation, built in 2005
It’s the validation, that keeps us alive.