Rant's of a Rapper

Nothing matters.  Trump.  NFL players taking knees.  Colin probably sick of it.  None of what he wanted to silently protest about is being addressed.  It’s a shit show.  And people that can barely load a gun, much less have any experience “fighting for this country” are all patriotic and very much American all of a sudden.   Shut up.  Nothing matters.  You still have to go to work tomorrow.  You are still going to watch the NFL.  Jerry Jones blatantly laughing in our face at how dumb this shit is while taking a knee, but “we” eat it up.  And by we, HELLL nah not me.  

Remember...cynic. North Korea bombing us, so your plea on Facebook is going to be what stops him? Lol.  Trump says a BUNCH of shit.  And people give him more power and attention by running with it.   Everyone wants to be famous, and think their opinions matter.  They don’t.  Like this post doesn’t. But it’s on my Tumblr, so I knew that. 

A moment ago I had all the ideas and words to put here. Soon as the blank canvas looks at me, I don’t know how to funnel them correctly.

Been a while since I wrote anything, even longer since I wrote on here. This place is public, but it might as well be a bunker or a steel contraption, along with everything else I’ve ever done. But it serves as “therapy” somehow. At least I tell myself that.

It’s like the shit can’t see the light of day. Stuck in a place of knowing, of creativity, of inspiration, yet stuck. Nothing moves forward. Not one of my ideas, that are praised and enjoyed, and more importantly different and not the same crap being force fed daily, and yet I can’t seem to break through. I’m not complaining. Just writing.

Analyzing.

The last real relevant thing I did was the Taylor Swift Gmix. That’s going on 3 years. I did other popular mixes. The radio ration kept not spinning them. For whatever reason. They didn’t keep helping.

I released my most worked on EP late 2015, “Astray While On Track,” to some overall good feedback. But, it’s just lost in digital archives along with other no names (some that are ironically use Nune as their artist name) that are both equally good (none of the same name guys), some that are probably better (definitely not the same name guys), and MANY that are terrible and don’t deserve to be rotting away on the shelf next to my stuff (a few of the same name guys).

I’ve said it before. I’ve tried other things. I’ve made money. But I can’t break the music gift/curse.

As I type this the “Violent Femmes” (80s rock group) are on TV making a comeback and the dude that is the drummer is hitting a BBQ grill as percussion.

A BBQ grill.

I’ll be 30 in less than two months now, God willing.

And it’s like I’m still 18. Still at home, not because I can’t afford to move out (the embarrassment in me makes me say that “I can afford it” part), but because I didn’t need a house while I was working away from home. And now, that I want to do something like an investment, I’m stuck. I don’t want to move out and pay rent. I want to own my own stuff, not help someone else get theirs. Too smart for that. Or so I think. But the system is designed to make us jump more hoops than we are accustomed too, so the process is slow.

I don’t get it.

And maybe it’s not for me to get. And that’s the problem. I want try and understand a bit of everything. In the most logical way. And since I’ve done every logical, non logical, gotten scammed for money, knowing it was a scam, but hoping somehow I caught a break, shows, songs, beefs, everything, I’m turning into more of a cynic than I care to be.

I don’t believe in much these days. Everything is staged, fake, a deterrent to something bigger, I can’t just watch something. Because I work so hard on my own stuff. When I see mediocrity being celebrated, excelling, doing better than me. Man.

A buzz, sure. People know I’m an artist, sure. People know I’m good, cool.

But all that’s local. Or a very limited stretch out the local circumference.

I look at my old YouTube videos (YouTube.com/nune44) and I see the old, the new, and it amazes me. All I’ve done. Tried. For basically nothing, other than a very vivid drive down memory lane. And a reminder of all I've done and where I haven't gotten to.

I just want to be happy. I want to “be normal” in every aspect now. If it’s with music. If it’s flipping burgers. I don’t care. I just want to live happily.

But I can’t let go of certain things. I can’t because I don’t understand it. It’s driving me crazy.

I’m halfway there already.

I’m in my own jail.

And for those that have asked, that’s why I haven’t made anything new.