I wrote about ten hours worth of music. Mostly stopped 5 years ago. Haven't even listened to any of it in probably a year now. Feel afraid now to go back and listen to it. If I still think it's really good, that will make me very sad and/or angry about how no one ever gave it the time of day. If I go back and find that I no longer like it, that I now think it sucks, then I'll feel bad that I spent so much time on a total fail.

S never gave a damn about my music. I find myself still just sickened by what she did after being a (I thought) close friend for so many years. Still being friends with her sister is serving as a constant reminder. But she never gave a damn about my music, so fuck her. Other "friends" sort of, kind of cared. They at least were impressed, though it's not like they then wanted to just listen and listen to it, which is understandable. I didn't expect it to take the world by storm. Or be something for any but a very small minority. A minority that it never reached. But S didn't value creativity in others. I could list many other negatives but that's the one that matters.

I'm going to make a CD for B. Just to see.

....yes, my music is beautiful. No matter that the world is blind (and deaf). No matter that I live in an evil world where other people don't care about the creativity of the people they personally know.