Hell is full of musical amateurs: music is the brandy of the damned. George Bernard Shaw
I have so had it. I look at my guitar and I am sick of it! Sick of its beckoning , sick of its crying, sick of it wanting me to pick it up and coddle it. Get over it. I can’t stand the very sight of you. Why must you torture me and torment me? There are times like this when I hate the very presence of you. I hate the fact that I am a musician…it’s killing me to my very core….it’s raping me and murdering me and fucking killing me….I guess tomorrow I will feel different, Maybe?