A Debt of Self Gratitude

I feel a substantial amount of responsibility to be accountable for my harmonic offerings in the contemporary classical music field.  This was not my sentiment a few years ago.  It is a line to toe.  It is the future hanging in the balance.  The pursuits of one's own selfish needs versus the development of an art form, now that is a predicament.  I gave up my own selfish pursuits years ago beginning with women.  Still I love them and sex.  I just can't make myself grovel in ignorance of music or women.  Before self deprecating first understand that you are or are not surrounded by assholes.  Sigmund Freud.  Fully I understand that I am, assholes of a major proportion.  I understand also that I am surrounded by the holy grail of the vagina, the all-knowing, all-understanding, all-empowering pleasure unit that seems to deserve the reverence of God.  (at least in the American South.)   I am not sure ever I have met any vagina that felt it was "all that."  I have not.  Never have I been slain by such a device.  I'm not sure ever I have wanted such a thing.  Once I did, or at least I got used to it being slain by vagina.  (Translation:  the woman does the work.)  Fairly it is easy to get spoiled by such an occurrence.  It not was until twenty years later, I realized it was more fulfilling to do the work one's self.  (Rather I would do the work rather than being worked.)  It seems the American South is all about the "getting worked."  Her people daily are worked in the culo.  I don't like it much.  I used to feel a substantial amount of responsibility to be accountable for my harmonic offerings in the contemporary classical music field.  I do feel a certain debt to be accountable for my doctoral dissertation material.  I am.  I wrote it.  I conceived it.  It is mine.  Why should I have to defend it?  That is the path of American academia.  As a rebel I resisted and erased some of my "chord symbols" (i.e. harmonic analysis)  above the written notes of my piano pieces.  I decided it was the responsibility of the next generation of music theorists to decipher my newly conceived harmonic system.  It as of yet not has been invented.  Who would believe such a thing?  No one.  Still, I have the bounty of work.  Each day I feel a small amount more of responsibility to publish a treatise of the method of my composition.  With the current states of affairs of the Conditions of America, it wholly is unlikely anyone ever will understand or appreciate my musical offerings.  Like a stiff academic trumpet dick up my ass, I feel compelled to make the fat lady sing.  I must expose my genius, not that I consider my aesthetic so advanced.  It is a natural and artistic evolution of history's music.  It seems that I only am capable of synthesizing these disparate temporal concepts.  (Don't get it really)  Is John Adams the only still living American composer?  I have no real desire to rub salt into a wound.  I only want to advance the art of music composition and thus the human condition.  We are staid, again.  We are stuck.  We are vacuumed into a black hole of human selfishness.  Why really must the needs of the LGBY community usurp the awareness of God?  It only is selfish.  When did one's sexual choice suddenly negate the human condition's responsibility of worshipping God?  To make an aberrant sexual choice's platform  grounds of existence is beyond me.  Only is this may I ask the thing that defines you?  Only is your personal sexuality the one thing that makes you whole?  Is there no other philosophical, spiritual, or intellectual platform that satisfies you?  Only is it the love of your mate?  Indeed while this is important to human survival, it is not its root.  To believe only one's selfish needs are necessary for human existence is a grievous mistake in the eyes of God.   I know that my personal offerings are paramount to musical evolution, yet I resist making them more important than my everyday life.  Delusions of grandeur are a mental illness, and yet there are times when great men must call upon their trump card.  It is with great humility and reluctance I summon the energy to tout my wares.  My harmonic concepts are evolutionary, not for genius but for lack of competition.  There is no interest in what I have sought.  Still these concepts are important to mankind.  They push and at times break the boundaries of human sensibility.  Living once again in the American South this is a stretch.  To evolve one must push the envelope.  One must call out the status quo and demand acknowledgment.  Really that means evolution by force.  Damn it, I am tired of this shite.  Really?  I guess this is the definition of being a leader, not a politician.