Legal Note: August 15, 2018

11:49am. Maybe you think the abuse of my music to gather page views for someone else, or the heisting of my profile page to confuse everyone about my work's ownership, wouldn't have any impact on me unless I was aware of it, but it does. It feels like an invasion of criminal taunters. It feels like the keys to my brain have been handed over to criminals from skills taught by stars they met in prison. It feels like old fashioned Nazi hate technology at work, using the hate to kill and to make the act look trivial. It's not aiming for genocide, though, just the murder of an individual. It's arguable who will kill this person first, as surly strangers bare their teeth at me in the library or the bread line: his enemies or himself. 9:10am. Something I was subjected to this morning from a radio speaker has helped me to gather a picture for you of where my head is at these days. Let me ask you, at 7:30 am, in the middle of the week, why must our ears be assaulted by the obnoxious, artificial bitterness of some pretentious, spoiled asshole on the rock radio? I find mellow songs like Godspeed far more pleasant at this tender hour. Don't you? And it hasn't already been played to death either. On the other hand, the appeal of my heavier songs comes from having real, righteous bitterness to express, and seems far more convincing than what they make us listen to on the radio. But radio music is half image, and my image is always under constant assault, isn't it? Did I steal Survival again? Who says its theirs? Do they have anything else like it? Is it a hit, now that they stole it? What did I say in my blog about how to detect a fraud again, that a fraud shows off with his stolen work when it may be gathering dust in the victim's account? How many times have I repeated it? I don't care much for that song anymore, but I still think it's better than a lot of what's on the rock radio. And am I in jail again? Jrail? Oh, that won't help my image. Tell me, why do you sign the dicks of frauds if you just let them and their friends drive their victim to afterward suicide with endless, poisonous, sexually humiliating lies? Why don't you just hang the victim and take a shortcut? Is it so you can have the illusion of justice? Looks like summer's almost over. Women, you can put your clothes back on and stop scowling now. Don't worry, I felt a lot more naked than you, and that it was for your amusement and not your pleasure. What did everyone hate me for this summer? Never mind, as long as you hated me. Oh, I'm innocent, by the way, just a solitary man who is constantly picked on by larger groups of predators. They surround me and have me isolated. They cut me off from my online followers, so that I stay helpless as this horror unfolds year after year after year. Kind of put a damper on my creative spirit, though, when I think about it. I just want to register my work and end my life now. Hope this note will hold you for a while. I'm sick of this blog, too.
Arguments Copyright Issues Comedy Sketches Cartoons Lyrics Poems
More Statements Scripts Songs
© 2018. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.