Sonic Crap
Short entry today. Feeling shitty. Christmas came and went, but it didn’t feel like Christmas. Just another lonely night lit by cheap lights and the glow of a DAW screen. My family keeps their distance, and I struggle figuring out what they get out of it….it angers me somehow. Conversations are clipped, distant, transactional. The silence between us feels heavier than the pandemic itself.
The loneliness cuts deep. My daughter’s laughter is the only thing pulling me back from the edge. But when she sleeps, the walls lean in closer, the air goes stale, and the self-doubt drips like a faucet you can’t shut off.
I keep telling everyone this is my career. That I’m building something real. That trying is worth the sacrifice. But the truth? Right now I don’t have the results to back it up.
“The mixes sound thin, lifeless, embarrassing. Sonic crap. That’s what I hear. And I’ll admit it.“
The guitars don’t roar, they whimper. The drums don’t punch, they clatter. Vocals sit in the mix like ghosts with no body. Every time I play back a track, I feel like I’m holding up my own failure on repeat.
Self-esteem? Dirt low. Lower than dirt. Mud.
Still, I will keep pushing. Because maybe at some point the noise will take shape. It will be a challenge. Nuff said.