The Old Jazz Devil Music

My time is split between house, mother, and music.  Music is on the back burner, and it takes manic energy to bring it to a boil.  House and mother demand compliance and submission, but music needs extroversion.  It is a delicate balancing act keeping the neighborhood at bay, the overt vibration of the household.  Usually anger is the operative stimulant for music, because emotional, sensitive, caring music breeds parasites.  Largely they are invisible, and they attach themselves to your spirit and torment you with unwanted commentary.  Dominance is the only solution, so when I am properly motivated I take no prisoners.  Often I do not feel like driving this bus, because that invisible enemy is the United States military.  It and excessive freight rail activity and commercial air traffic expose themselves as undo pressure on the house.  Its frame contracts and expands from the barometric pressure created by destructive sound waves.  Some of these can't be heard, but you can hear the pops and cracks of the wood in the house.  Also you can hear the ceiling fans chatter as their normally smooth and periodic rotation is modulated by unwanted infrasonic pollution.  Usually it all hits at once, like they think one nuisance will camouflage the other.  The PSA or Piedmont direct flight to Charlotte at 6:00 am strafes the house in the cover of a long and rumbling CSX freight.  For some reason they think the necessity of a few flyers needing to get to Charlotte merits sacrifice of the many.  Instead of climbing to a reasonable altitude, the pilot turns immediately after take off from FAY and blankets downtown Fayetteville and its accompanying neighborhoods with severe wake vortices.  If you ever blow leaves in your yard, you will experience these as miniature tornadoes that appear out of nowhere spinning your bounty into a disheveled mass.  It may make a nice story line for a Peanuts cartoon, but battling invisible gremlins with enough force to move mass is an extra burden to a homeowner.  The military, the railroads, and the airlines perfectly are aware of their influence, and I feel they laugh underneath their breath when the torture citizens.  It is sadistic.  Then again Donald Trump was president for four years.  The entire country knows what it is like to be tortured unnecessarily.  My musical activity at its crux is governed by this unregulated muck.  Either I have to fight it, ignore it, or dominate it.  When I dominate it, my fans latch on and it takes several days to disperse them.  Who decided music-making should be this difficult?  Adolph Hitler?