I was prepared to climb mountains to reach my objective. I worked hard and made sacrifices. I believed there was a direct connection between input and output, between commitment and results. The more you put in the more you got out basically. But I would see people do well with much less effort, sometimes like a lottery win. They would take a more direct route from A to B. For them it would tend to be minimum effort for maximum return.

This is now the preferred approach, the post-modern way. My modus operandi is bankrupt. No amount of trying is likely to bring success any more than just leaving it to chance. Life it seems is to be determined by things outside of what one actually does.

It used to be different. It was generally considered good to have a passion or a belief, to have something that defined you. To be committed to that thing would be worthy of praise, to sacrifice for it, more so. But few were ever actually driven to that route. Most people were, as now, more likely to take what was served up and get on with it. For reasons, maybe a weakness in character, I found conformity distasteful and needed to pursue my own thing on my own terms. I had to be free from the schemes of others and hated the absence of autonomy associated with being young. I wanted to be older, to be responsible and to be master of my own destiny at the earliest point.

Music provided the perfect instrument. It gave me the passion, the energy, the driving force. It offered the elements that became essential to my existence, the defining aspect. It made me feel cool and confident. That is why I have been unable to let go even after years of terrible misfortune. All of this is so deeply sewn into my being it is like a consecration and unlikely to change.