something like an update

career successes notwithstanding. im a mess, sorta, right now. though never as much of a mess as i used to be. how much of a mess can you be when you're suddenly jolted to a-list producer, engineer, a crazy microphone, a fucking ORCHESTRA playing your music, legendary studio and a Yamaha C7 grand.

and in addition to your own voice your own songs your own thoughts and lyrics and melodies being given a sort of, UNANIMOUSLY glowing reception, you're about to get paid an arm and a leg too?

most of which initially is recoupable to all these other people, but whatever.

you have a top lawyer from nyc representing you for free.

you'll be fine.

and then on top of that. your engineer wants you playing CLASSICAL piano for a record tour.

well.

and when you co-produced, co-wrote, and starred in a film all about it thats going to be playing at a huge festival in europe in the fall.

just before you turn 25.

not much really can you?

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you're too busy to really think about it but you have no more outlet except your songs which you've become increasingly cautious about playing in front of anyone at all, because you know the dollar signs in their eyes want to somehow insure their take, and their credit, on something you wrote and performed before you even met them...

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and you have no more outlet because all these people have found your blog so you have to shut it down.

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and you have no more outlet because you can no longer see or talk to your shrink

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and you're having a sexless quasi-relationship with your producer who's officially fucking left his wife disclaimers notwithstanding ("please, c, i am NOT responsible for any of this. remember that. please.")

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and you've reached official STALKED level about JD.

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you know he's been checking you out online a lot.

googling you. you know cuz you have a traffic monitor on your music blog. and you're such a stalker that you've looked at the headers of every email he ever sent you and wrote down ever single IP address. and then you look for similar ones on your traffic count.

and then you find a few.

but you only found them after you wrote him to check out the videos on it. and it was a complete coincidence, that he actually checked them out for the first time, like an hour before you wrote him.
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and then, you figured out what his OS was.

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and like two days ago, a lightbulb went off, and you started looking back at the logs, and seeing these weird countries. and they had the same OS he does. and it's not a common one. and you checked them out. and realized they were phony proxy servers.

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your last legit communication was a thank you card he sent you, from his house, for a cd you sent. spoon. "transference." he made a couple weird references.

you never see his car at the office lately.

you drive around his house.

you saw a stroller at the front door last week.