I started writing this as Dragula by Robert Cummings, better known as Rob Zombie.

Think about it.

Why do we change our names?

Superstition,  fear, and jealousy.

Fear that no one will hear us.

Fear that no one will know us.

Fear that no one will understand us.

Superstion on this one. Well, if we look at Robert, why did he change his name?

What superstition was he fearful of?

Jealousy is no brainer.

Think about it.

Every artist has a bit of narcissism.

When  narcissistic intent meets crippling self doubt, that’s when art happens.

I’ve told myself for years that I never want to be famous.

Why?

What do I fear?

What am I jealous of?

What superstitions are my enemy?

I think about this as a Táltos,  why would I want fame?

As a telepath, fame is something I fear.

If you could feel everything people say about you, or even their fantasies as they have them. You would fear fame as I do.

Who am I jealous of?

Not so much jealous as I can see the famous people fuck it up.

It’s why I want fame, so people will listen to what I have to say.

But why should anyone listen to you?

What have I gotten wrong in what I’ve written for the last several years?

This needs audience participation. 

This is how I figure shit out on occasion.

I ask the world what they think.

Because what if I did get something wrong?

I can’t say that I haven’t.

This is where crippling self-doubt meets narcissistic intent.

I know I get shit wrong on occasion, and I’m grateful to be corrected.

Why would any holy man worry about what he says?

Responsibility.

I’m responsible, and I ever gave bad guidance, that would fuck me up.

It would be me telling someone to fuck their life up and I thought I was doing them a favor.

This is how my mind works.

Know you’re blessed and be excellent to prove it.