The journey into musical anonymity continues. Something isn’t clicking with the Spotify production; only one new follower in a month. I’m torn between trying a new platform or sticking it out, because maybe “Shape My Future” just isn’t as punchy or impactful as I thought. Then again, we always see our own “children” as beautiful and destined for greatness, when the reality might be quite different.
On YouTube, however, I’ve noticed a substantial jump in subscribers. It makes me wonder if I should double down there instead of Spotify. Maybe my music just doesn’t land without a visual component—and in this “short-attention-span era,” that’s a major handicap. We’ll see. In the meantime, a reminder that “Let Me Live Again” drops this Friday.
Regarding the house in the Pesaro and Urbino province, we’re looking at a sale through an agency in a few years. My two relatives under investigation have to prove their innocence first, but legal proceedings in Italy take centuries, so it’s not closing anytime soon.
They were unlucky to get mixed up with shady people who scammed them. I understand their “inaction” and why they didn’t communicate the situation, hoping it would resolve with an acquittal in the short term—I get it, but I don’t agree with it. To me, they’re still total dipshits. Did they forget they owned that house with us? Unwanted inheritances are the first properties I remember owning, but maybe that’s just me. Anyway, let’s leave it at that.
As for the other house in the Latina province, my relatives and I cleared it out. A titanic effort, made slightly easier by everyone pulling their weight. Believe me: black bag after black bag of bulky trash—honestly, worse than a nomad camp. We’ve practically given the notary and the real estate agent our measurements down to the centimeter, and they still haven’t given us a closing date. I won’t say more because this should have been over three months ago. We wait.
Before updating you on the new tracks, I have to vent about some situations that make me incredibly uncomfortable: the panhandling. I often walk the backstreets hoping not to be bothered because I use those walks to clear my head. Hard to believe, but at least once a week someone approaches me for money. I don’t even live in a bad neighborhood, yet it’s constant. Last Wednesday, I even had a gypsy at my front door. Enough already!
Then people say, “Go to the park, it’s right there!” Fine. I went last Sunday. Peaceful, beautiful, sun’s out, people exercising—great! Then who pops out? The Boy Scouts. Yes, Boy Scouts asking for money to fund their activities. That takes the cake, even beating the guy who jumps out from between two cars faking a sob story to buy food—and I say “faking” because I caught him doing the exact same act with others later.
The absolute worst is the pseudo-disabled guy in the wheelchair. He stakes out bars and supermarkets, picks a victim, rolls up, and starts claiming he’s paralyzed, has no money, and asks if you can buy him something at the bar. He asked me for a sandwich; within three minutes, two other people went in to buy him one. The kicker? As I was leaving, he was heading back in to ask for a cappuccino. You have to laugh! A few days later, I saw him pulling the same move on some poor soul stopped at a red light.
I should never be in power. In the right position of authority, I could be truly “evil” toward people like that—and toward scooter riders and delivery guys. Believe it or not, I’ve almost been hit more by scooters and delivery riders than by SUVs. Just yesterday, I was crossing the street at a crosswalk; the SUV stops, but then some asshole on a scooter flies up, sees me at the last second, and almost nails me. I wanted to choke him with my bare hands and kick him while he was down… that “evil” I mentioned earlier.
The Italian state does nothing to rein these idiots in. No licenses, no fines, no insurance—they do whatever the hell they want. Running reds, ignoring signs, going the wrong way, and many of them stay on the road even when there’s a bike lane. If I were in charge, I’d make it legal to hit them if they’re caught on the road. This is why I stay out of politics; I’d use zero tolerance to build a better society. Or I’d just ban scooters, but I’m sure there’s some criminal organization behind the boom of these pieces of shit, so nothing ever changes. I hope a few more of them bite the dust. Boring consequences of Covid.
Back to things that are calmer on paper but still stressful… musically, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m using an open E tuning on the guitar, and on the bass, I’m playing chords. The cool thing is that the guitars alone have one mood, but the bass completely flips the interpretation. I think it’s cool, but who knows if anyone will ever appreciate it. Whatever. I’m having fun.
Catch you next week, assuming I survive the gypsies, the fake invalids, the fucking Boy Scouts, and the Lotta Comunista people trying to recruit me… why can’t they all just fuck off?