Post New Clear Fall Out
Sep. 19th, 2001 04:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deathboyNot like THIS isn't overdue.
I'm fucking tired of this shit.
People write to me to tell me that they like my shit. This is great. As a point of fact, this rocks my fucking world. To get a positive response from someone REALLY makes me smile.
Seriously.
My music is the SINGLE most important thing in my life.
NO EXCEPTIONS.
So, given that I have just pissed off my girlfriend (who occasionally reads this, HI LIZ!, and my best mate, HI PHIL!, and my family, HI YOU ALL FUCKERS!), let's FUCKING CLARIFY THINGS:
I WRITE MUSIC.
I AM A FUCKING *MISERABLE* LITTLE WASTE OF FUCKING SKIN, BUT THE SINGLE THING I FEEL THAT I CAN DO THAT MAKES IT WORTH ME BREATHING EVERY MORNING IS THAT I CAN MAKE MUSIC.
I know that many people don't *like* my music.
That's fine.
BUT I LIKE MY MUSIC.
THAT'S WHY I FUCKING WELL MAKE IT.
I love music. I love the music of *many many* artists.
But no-one can sing the thing you want sung, scream what you want screaming, or just make ths cute little line that you need looping to go to sleep to at night quite like *YOU* can.
My music is my own fucking urban hatred soundtrack.
It's the sound of my fucking life. My pain, MY hatred, MY FUCKING HURT.
And if you like that, I'm happy.
If you like me, I'm happy, if you like things I make, I'm happy.
If I can make something that strikes a chord in you that someone else couldn't quite hit, then I'm fucking ecstatic.
I mean this.
It's the most true pleasure I GET from life.
BUT...
People start telling me what I should be like.
People start telling me what I *should* write.
What I should try.
What I should DO.
WHAT I SHOULD BE.
FUCK YOU ALL.
FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOU HARD AND FUCK YOUR PARENTS AND FUCK YOU **NOW**.
I do NOTHING that **I** don't want to do when it comes to my music.
Throughout my life, I'm told what I should and shouldn't do, and most of it is good advice if I don't want to spend every spare minute fighting the arseholes in life and justifying myself just to live like a "normal" person.
But when it comes to my music.
Yeah.
hah.
FUCK YOU.
FUCK YOU FUCKING ALL.
I MAKE THIS BECAUSE I CAN'T NOT.
THIS IS FUCKING **ME**.
When I make a track, or an **album** that sounds like someone else... you fucking know what?
IT'S BECAUSE I WISH I COULD BE LIKE THAT PERSON.
It's because like everyone else on this fucking planet, I HAVE THE URGE TO FIT IN AND TO BE ACCEPTED AND TO BE LOVED AND TO DO WHAT HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE AND TO JUST THRASH IT AND LOVE IT AND BE FUCKING **ME** RIGHT NOW FOR ALWAYS AND EVER.
I DO NOT CARE ABOUT ORIGINALITY.
I CARE ABOUT EXPRESSION.
I could sing fucking NIN songs all my life for the rest of my life.
But I won't, because that's not what **I** want.
NOT BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU WANT.
FUCK YOU.
I MAKE THESE THINGS FOR MYSELF.
I MAKE THESE THINGS TO **HURT** MYSELF.
And if there's anything I deserve the right to, it's the right to hurt myself in exactly the precise way that I feel I want to right here and right now.
Do **NOT** try to tell me otherwise.
The things I make are my own way of solidifying, iconifying, DEIFYING my pain.
Of which I have plenty.
And I'm not some poor fucking charity case, I'm a retard that was built to hurt himself.
I know this.
I don't want help or sympathy or ANYTHING from you.
I am strong and I am hard and I will fucking well SURVIVE this.
And I will stab MYSELF in the side while I go through it because it's the way that I'm FUCKING BUILT.
I AM MADE TO HURT MYSELF AND I FUCKING LOVE IT.
I want to be a rockstar.
I'd love to be a rockstar.
But if you think I'm writing stuff to a formula, well maybe that formula is what **I** want to fucking HEAR and express RIGHT NOW.
And (oh, and I REALLY mean this) if you think I could SCREAM MORE.
Fuck you.
I can scream until my throat bleeds.
I can scream until you don't want to hear me anymore.
I DON'T SCREAM BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUCKING NECESSARY UNLESS **I** WANT TO.
You want my fucking blood?
You want ALL my pain?
If I could express it, I'd GIVE it you out of SPITE.
You would not WANT the stuff I REALLY have deep inside.
No fucker would
**I** don't.
You want me to scream, to bleed, to show you how much "expression" and "hurt" and "violence" and "pain" I have in me, and you don't think I'VE GIVEN YOU ENOUGH ALREADY?
Get a fucking life.
Get real.
OK.
I've made a new track. It'll take a few days to register on the mp3.com page. DEAL WITH IT.
So, I've not written (or at least uploaded) any new music in *some fucking time*.
You want to know why?
I know **some** of you do...
Well, the reason is this:
Most of the while, I push this this shit out regularly.
It flows freely and easily.
The world rarely leaves me a few days without something to write music about.
The thing is this:
"Fans" have been emailing me, telling me that I should sing like *this*, should play guitar like *that*.
And, you know what? I was listening to them.
FUCK THAT.
If you people like me, then like me for what I am.
I'm sure 99% of the people who like me already do.
We're a particular breed.
Imperfect.
Broken.
FUCKED TO FUCKING DEATH AND BACK.
Able to appreciate shit for it's reality.
You know.
I have, for the first time in my fucking ***LIFE*** got writer's block for **music**.
This is unHEARD of for me.
And, to put it bluntly, IT FUCKS ME RIGHT OFF. IT MAKES ME HATE MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE DAMNED FUCKING WORLD BECAUSE IT STOPS ME FUCKING WELL EXPRESSING MYSELF, WHICH IS THE ONLY DAMN FUCKING THING I CAN **DO** TO VENT THE PAIN I FEEL EVERY FUCKING DAY.
And it's because I've made the mistake of *giving a fuck* about what people think.
So, my message to the people who would tell me what to write:
FUCK YOU.
I write this music because it's IN me.
I can't NOT write it.
It comes out the way that it SHOULD come out.
I can't fucking sing.
So fuck you.
I can't play guitar.
So FUCK YOU.
I MAKE THESE THINGS.
THESE THINGS ARE NOT BUILT TO LAST.
THESE THINGS ARE ME.
IF YOU LIKE THEM, I LIKE YOU.
IF YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, YOU DON'T LIKE **ME**, SO I DON'T LIKE **YOU**.
FUCK YOU ALL AND DIE.
I bleed for you.
I bleed for MYSELF, but I try to share it because I think some people appreciate it.
I know they do. They talk to me.
And then some of them want more.
They want me to bleed more.
To scream more.
To give them something I can't fucking GIVE them.
This shit I make contains ALL of me.
If I'm not *quite* as hardcore as you need, if I can't *quite* hit that note, if I could have emphasised that *particular* rape analogy a *little* more accurately for *you*... if I don't *quite* manage to express that little moment in time that you happened to experience when you were 13 and naive and everything was beautiful, and isn't the world a fucking terrible place now by comparison, and what's the point of it all anymore then FUCK YOU, I DON'T FUCKING CARE, WE ALL LIVE IN OUR OWN PERSONAL HELL, AND MINE IS EVERY BIT AS FUCKING HATEFUL AS YOURS AND WE CAN NEVER ESCAPE IT AND THERE IS NO BETTER PLACE THAN THIS AND THE THINGS THEY SHOW YOU ON MTV ARE **NOT** **FUCKING** **REAL**.
... From now on, DeathBoy will be resuming "normal" service.
I'll write shit as and when and fucking HOW I like.
If you don't like it, go and buy the latest fucking Limp Korn Chamber album and fuck yourself.
I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL MUSICIAN.
I AM NOT A ROCKSTAR. (yet).
I AM ME.
And you will love me or die.
"People don't *really* want to know their gods. They prefer them unknown, unmolested, aloof, disparate from us. What's the point in having gods if they're just men?" - anon.
If people decide to stop visiting my pages, if they suddenly opt out of DeathBoy as something to hear in their daily life, then they *will* watch me disappear from their view.
I can function without you.
My music is how.
That was the whole point.
Hate you, hate you, hate you, kill you, die.
I AM ME.
Love me or die.
-=Scott=-
I'm fucking tired of this shit.
People write to me to tell me that they like my shit. This is great. As a point of fact, this rocks my fucking world. To get a positive response from someone REALLY makes me smile.
Seriously.
My music is the SINGLE most important thing in my life.
NO EXCEPTIONS.
So, given that I have just pissed off my girlfriend (who occasionally reads this, HI LIZ!, and my best mate, HI PHIL!, and my family, HI YOU ALL FUCKERS!), let's FUCKING CLARIFY THINGS:
I WRITE MUSIC.
I AM A FUCKING *MISERABLE* LITTLE WASTE OF FUCKING SKIN, BUT THE SINGLE THING I FEEL THAT I CAN DO THAT MAKES IT WORTH ME BREATHING EVERY MORNING IS THAT I CAN MAKE MUSIC.
I know that many people don't *like* my music.
That's fine.
BUT I LIKE MY MUSIC.
THAT'S WHY I FUCKING WELL MAKE IT.
I love music. I love the music of *many many* artists.
But no-one can sing the thing you want sung, scream what you want screaming, or just make ths cute little line that you need looping to go to sleep to at night quite like *YOU* can.
My music is my own fucking urban hatred soundtrack.
It's the sound of my fucking life. My pain, MY hatred, MY FUCKING HURT.
And if you like that, I'm happy.
If you like me, I'm happy, if you like things I make, I'm happy.
If I can make something that strikes a chord in you that someone else couldn't quite hit, then I'm fucking ecstatic.
I mean this.
It's the most true pleasure I GET from life.
BUT...
People start telling me what I should be like.
People start telling me what I *should* write.
What I should try.
What I should DO.
WHAT I SHOULD BE.
FUCK YOU ALL.
FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOU HARD AND FUCK YOUR PARENTS AND FUCK YOU **NOW**.
I do NOTHING that **I** don't want to do when it comes to my music.
Throughout my life, I'm told what I should and shouldn't do, and most of it is good advice if I don't want to spend every spare minute fighting the arseholes in life and justifying myself just to live like a "normal" person.
But when it comes to my music.
Yeah.
hah.
FUCK YOU.
FUCK YOU FUCKING ALL.
I MAKE THIS BECAUSE I CAN'T NOT.
THIS IS FUCKING **ME**.
When I make a track, or an **album** that sounds like someone else... you fucking know what?
IT'S BECAUSE I WISH I COULD BE LIKE THAT PERSON.
It's because like everyone else on this fucking planet, I HAVE THE URGE TO FIT IN AND TO BE ACCEPTED AND TO BE LOVED AND TO DO WHAT HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE AND TO JUST THRASH IT AND LOVE IT AND BE FUCKING **ME** RIGHT NOW FOR ALWAYS AND EVER.
I DO NOT CARE ABOUT ORIGINALITY.
I CARE ABOUT EXPRESSION.
I could sing fucking NIN songs all my life for the rest of my life.
But I won't, because that's not what **I** want.
NOT BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU WANT.
FUCK YOU.
I MAKE THESE THINGS FOR MYSELF.
I MAKE THESE THINGS TO **HURT** MYSELF.
And if there's anything I deserve the right to, it's the right to hurt myself in exactly the precise way that I feel I want to right here and right now.
Do **NOT** try to tell me otherwise.
The things I make are my own way of solidifying, iconifying, DEIFYING my pain.
Of which I have plenty.
And I'm not some poor fucking charity case, I'm a retard that was built to hurt himself.
I know this.
I don't want help or sympathy or ANYTHING from you.
I am strong and I am hard and I will fucking well SURVIVE this.
And I will stab MYSELF in the side while I go through it because it's the way that I'm FUCKING BUILT.
I AM MADE TO HURT MYSELF AND I FUCKING LOVE IT.
I want to be a rockstar.
I'd love to be a rockstar.
But if you think I'm writing stuff to a formula, well maybe that formula is what **I** want to fucking HEAR and express RIGHT NOW.
And (oh, and I REALLY mean this) if you think I could SCREAM MORE.
Fuck you.
I can scream until my throat bleeds.
I can scream until you don't want to hear me anymore.
I DON'T SCREAM BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUCKING NECESSARY UNLESS **I** WANT TO.
You want my fucking blood?
You want ALL my pain?
If I could express it, I'd GIVE it you out of SPITE.
You would not WANT the stuff I REALLY have deep inside.
No fucker would
**I** don't.
You want me to scream, to bleed, to show you how much "expression" and "hurt" and "violence" and "pain" I have in me, and you don't think I'VE GIVEN YOU ENOUGH ALREADY?
Get a fucking life.
Get real.
OK.
I've made a new track. It'll take a few days to register on the mp3.com page. DEAL WITH IT.
So, I've not written (or at least uploaded) any new music in *some fucking time*.
You want to know why?
I know **some** of you do...
Well, the reason is this:
Most of the while, I push this this shit out regularly.
It flows freely and easily.
The world rarely leaves me a few days without something to write music about.
The thing is this:
"Fans" have been emailing me, telling me that I should sing like *this*, should play guitar like *that*.
And, you know what? I was listening to them.
FUCK THAT.
If you people like me, then like me for what I am.
I'm sure 99% of the people who like me already do.
We're a particular breed.
Imperfect.
Broken.
FUCKED TO FUCKING DEATH AND BACK.
Able to appreciate shit for it's reality.
You know.
I have, for the first time in my fucking ***LIFE*** got writer's block for **music**.
This is unHEARD of for me.
And, to put it bluntly, IT FUCKS ME RIGHT OFF. IT MAKES ME HATE MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE DAMNED FUCKING WORLD BECAUSE IT STOPS ME FUCKING WELL EXPRESSING MYSELF, WHICH IS THE ONLY DAMN FUCKING THING I CAN **DO** TO VENT THE PAIN I FEEL EVERY FUCKING DAY.
And it's because I've made the mistake of *giving a fuck* about what people think.
So, my message to the people who would tell me what to write:
FUCK YOU.
I write this music because it's IN me.
I can't NOT write it.
It comes out the way that it SHOULD come out.
I can't fucking sing.
So fuck you.
I can't play guitar.
So FUCK YOU.
I MAKE THESE THINGS.
THESE THINGS ARE NOT BUILT TO LAST.
THESE THINGS ARE ME.
IF YOU LIKE THEM, I LIKE YOU.
IF YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, YOU DON'T LIKE **ME**, SO I DON'T LIKE **YOU**.
FUCK YOU ALL AND DIE.
I bleed for you.
I bleed for MYSELF, but I try to share it because I think some people appreciate it.
I know they do. They talk to me.
And then some of them want more.
They want me to bleed more.
To scream more.
To give them something I can't fucking GIVE them.
This shit I make contains ALL of me.
If I'm not *quite* as hardcore as you need, if I can't *quite* hit that note, if I could have emphasised that *particular* rape analogy a *little* more accurately for *you*... if I don't *quite* manage to express that little moment in time that you happened to experience when you were 13 and naive and everything was beautiful, and isn't the world a fucking terrible place now by comparison, and what's the point of it all anymore then FUCK YOU, I DON'T FUCKING CARE, WE ALL LIVE IN OUR OWN PERSONAL HELL, AND MINE IS EVERY BIT AS FUCKING HATEFUL AS YOURS AND WE CAN NEVER ESCAPE IT AND THERE IS NO BETTER PLACE THAN THIS AND THE THINGS THEY SHOW YOU ON MTV ARE **NOT** **FUCKING** **REAL**.
... From now on, DeathBoy will be resuming "normal" service.
I'll write shit as and when and fucking HOW I like.
If you don't like it, go and buy the latest fucking Limp Korn Chamber album and fuck yourself.
I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL MUSICIAN.
I AM NOT A ROCKSTAR. (yet).
I AM ME.
And you will love me or die.
"People don't *really* want to know their gods. They prefer them unknown, unmolested, aloof, disparate from us. What's the point in having gods if they're just men?" - anon.
If people decide to stop visiting my pages, if they suddenly opt out of DeathBoy as something to hear in their daily life, then they *will* watch me disappear from their view.
I can function without you.
My music is how.
That was the whole point.
Hate you, hate you, hate you, kill you, die.
I AM ME.
Love me or die.
-=Scott=-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2001-09-18 08:48 pm (UTC)As for having writers block, I feel you on that I know how much it can suck. From where I'm standing though you could make a good song just from the thoughts you expressed in your post.
I've heard your shit on mp3.com and I dig it. Just stay true to yourself bro.
Re:
Date: 2001-09-19 03:13 pm (UTC)Appreciated.
Rawk On X-)
Date: 2001-09-18 09:26 pm (UTC)I can't wait to hear your new shit. I love reading your vents of frustration. Knowing someone else out there is fucking pissed off comforts me, I'm not the only one.
My sister said she didn't like your lyrics in Decimate because they were what she tagged, 'popist' or displaying 'popism' (sexism, racism). Blah she's saying you could influence someone to kill pop-stars and blah blah. She can be such a politically correct bitch sometimes.
Decimate is my favorite song of yours anyways! heh, don't be afraid to let it out.
Re: Rawk On X-)
Date: 2001-09-19 03:16 pm (UTC)And tell your sister to shut the fuck up :)
If I influence someone to go and kill pop-stars, then I shall be VERY pleased indeed :)
heheheh...
I mean, come on... wasn't it blatant enough?
Righto: the NEXT song lyrics will be "LOOK, JUST GO OUT THERE AND SHOOT BRITNEY WITH A 12-GUAGE. PLEASE."
... "could influence"... fuck! :)
Re: Rawk On X-)
Date: 2001-09-19 07:50 pm (UTC)Now that's what I want to hear! hahahahahahahahaha
You have such a way with words, I love it.
no subject
Date: 2001-09-18 10:31 pm (UTC)i don't think you meant me though, but just in case...
Re:
Date: 2001-09-19 03:17 pm (UTC)I don't mind comments from you at all... I **like* 'em :)
YOU FUCK!
:)
Scott, Scott, Scott...
Date: 2001-09-19 12:20 am (UTC)Re: Scott, Scott, Scott...
Date: 2001-09-21 10:42 am (UTC)Thanks, Chylde :)
So... what ARE you doing soon?
An yeah, I KNooooowwwwWWWWW about HTML taggies :)
I just prefer to do it inna old-school text stylee...
Too many years spent using telnet talkers, I spose... I'm an old-fashioned kinda guy at heart... heheheh...
Re: Scott, Scott, Scott...
Date: 2001-09-22 07:33 pm (UTC)Re: Scott, Scott, Scott...
Date: 2001-09-23 01:17 am (UTC)insignifica
Date: 2001-09-19 05:34 am (UTC)Truly.
Hm. I understand the rage of a musician. And I understand perfectly how you feel, because I feel it too, albeit on a much smaller scale.
Or maybe I am as vitriolic, and I'm too wussy to shout it like you do.
I respect few people.
For all it's worth, I have a lot of respect for you.
*shrugs*
Re: insignifica
Date: 2001-09-21 10:44 am (UTC)I should shout more. It's good for me.
:)
An' thanks you :)
I think somebody needs a hug
I demand that you pick up a an accordian, strap on a bass drum to your back get a wire collar with harmonica attached and strap on cymbals to your knees.
Look out world it's PolkaBoy.
BTW
Date: 2001-09-19 07:35 am (UTC)Fuckin rox, bro.
Cheers.
Re: BTW
Date: 2001-09-21 10:45 am (UTC)glad you like ;)
Chorus is punchy, 'innit? heheheheheh ;)
Re: BTW
Re: I think somebody needs a hug
Date: 2001-09-21 10:44 am (UTC)Horsefucker :)
hehehehehehehehehehhe :)
-=PolkaBoy=-
no subject
Date: 2001-09-19 08:36 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2001-09-21 10:47 am (UTC)What fucks me off MOST is when you get friendly with someone (and Tom, etc, I don't mean you guys, honestly, I'd say so if I did... :)) and they're telling you that they *like* your stuff, but how you could improve it...
WTF??
When the fuck did you ever go to a fucking NIN concert, collar Trent backstage and say "hey, man, you rock! Sign my chest? Oh, and by the way, the bassline to Head Like a Hole is REALLY fucking unimaginative, man... why not try a ..."
Dumb fucks.
You're supposed to accept the whole package... surely that's the way it's meant to work?
Fucking fuck fuckers.
Re:
Date: 2001-09-21 06:17 pm (UTC)god i fucking hate people, especially people that comment on music and don't even know what fucking music is...
god damn asshole mother fuckers
no subject
Date: 2001-09-19 02:52 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2001-09-21 10:48 am (UTC)I love you too, man... wide mouth japanese smileys and all... :)
no subject
Date: 2001-09-19 04:16 pm (UTC)Mmk, fangirl mode off.
I saaay.. I find out where the people live and kill them alllll.
Then again.. I'm in a slightly violent mood right now.
Anyway.. I love your music and.. I don't care if it sounds anything like anyone else. It makes you, and other DeathBoy freaks, happy. The other people suck.
Re:
Date: 2001-09-21 10:51 am (UTC)Woohar :)
And 'glad you like Decimate, too ;)
Actually, if you like that, listen to "Sick world"...
I need to do more on the whole shock-lyrics-front.
heh.
;)
YOU!
Date: 2001-09-19 05:15 pm (UTC)umm...love please?
i've not heard your music, but i like you quite well.... therefore i assume that i like your music. :)
Re: YOU!
Date: 2001-09-21 10:49 am (UTC)heheheheheheeh :)
That's the kind of assumption I like... ;)
Re: YOU!
Date: 2001-09-21 01:49 pm (UTC)you know it
Apart from you getting quite a nice hug above, you are obviously a little irate and I feel obliged to force you to meet me this weekend and play some Mario Kart Super Circuit on our GBAs.
I know you need it and I am *making* myself free just to let you have it and enjoy life for a change. You deserve it.
Call me. I am here, right where you need me mate. I know I have not been.
Take care and speak to you soon.
matt
Fuck the Fucking Fuckers!
Date: 2001-09-22 07:48 pm (UTC)And about music...fuck those who don't like it. It's not about them, it's about the artist. That's just my fucking opinion. Me, I fucking can't live without music. You take music away from me, I might as well shrivel up and die. It's my live, it's my love, it's my release, it's my everything. Gods, it's better than sex sometimes (I said sometimes people...sheesh).
Now, to those who think that you have the right to tell people how to act or what to be, FUCK OFF. We don't need your damn help. Have you ever thought we like being the way we fucking are? I for one love feeling pissed (as in angry) off. Sometimes I just get angry because I fucking can. I like to scream and throw things and beat my chest. So fucking what. If I want to be depressed and wallow in my sadness, fucking let me. It's all a part of being human...it's a part of living...it's a part of healing thyself. If everyone was fucking happy all the damn time, it would be a boring damn world. So, next time you want to tell someone how to be or what to do, think twice. If you want to say it to me, you better fucking duck.
Anyway Scott, just wanted to say that I fucking love your music. Tonight, I've been playing it really fucking loud because I was in a very verbal and heated discussion with my beloved and I was dealing with a lot of frustration. So I dug out my "I want to be angry" CD and played it as loud as my speakers would allow. I must say, I feel much better now. Although I would be even better if my friend would call me back and take me to the club. I have this urge to dance.