The Week is Ending, don't forget your rocking shoes

To live a life of an artist is as good as jumping into a ring of fire, sometimes you can do all the most luxurious things in life, sometimes the only luxury is to cuddle up with someone you love. If not, with the friends around you limping in unison under the psychotic strobe lights to the sound of our united taste.
At times you ask yourself, are all these things worthwhile?

You feel that this expression worth something, spiritually and emotionally, then, you found a book about Talking Heads, and you feel there is still hope, then once again, geographically you are still at where you were born. And once again, you search aimlessly for the drive, when its at halt thats when you feel the most retarded.
Then you start to think about Jamaica, Bob Marley and reggae, or even REM, the hope comes back again.

The other day, I had a conversation with a friend, who told me about watching 'Live on 5' (a defunct tv programme in the 90s showcasing some local bands hosted by Gurmit Singh), he told me about seeing local indie rock bands Padres, Groofy Grooves, ESP and many others on tv. That was the closest thing we could get something similar to Top of The Pops.

I guess that's the reason why I started to get myself into being 'an artist', not a proper context of the occupational list in many forms we have to fill in. Life is nothing without a struggle, a struggle with yourself, society, religion, identity, ethnicity, new world order, indie rock, radio stations, politics, freedom, liberation, desperation, depression, alcoholism, bourgeouisies, god, faith, devotion and hope. I believe this will go on...the feeling of being alive is when you realised after so many years there are many more things to learn. Its infuriating but all worthwhile...