Disney
Disney
You are only a character, set up on the scene, done whatever needed to make the directors happy, "more emotion" one calls, and instantly your scowl turns to a glare, "more sadness" he calls, and one tear multiples into twenty. "QUICKCHANGE!" is called and all of the sudden, your expensive outfit is disposed of and replaced with a new one. You are only a tool, an object to be used to get your creator more money, more money than necessary, more money than he already possesses. They use and exploit you, in a way to make more money, putting your face on a brightly colored tee-shirt, although the thought of your face on a shirt that is not black makes you want to hurl. "Why?" you ask yourself?
But the answer is simple, because it is already too late. Is that the real answer? Or just your justification to keep going with this? Soon you aren't even writing your own songs, you are given music, and are told to sing, now you're not even a person; you have become a wind-up doll.
"I'm doing this for the fans" you say, "the fans are more important than anything," but what about your music, if you were a true musician, it would be about the music, you wouldn't care if you were performing in front of only 30 people, at least you would get to play your own music, get your message out, just make great music. Now you are playing in sold out stadiums, and look around you, these people are not here for your music, heck they don't even know your music, they know the people who created you, who sculpted you into a money-making robot, you smile and you have fun, but is this what you want? So much fame that it's sickening?
You walk into a store, and you see your face, first you feel excitement, and then you realize your face is on a shampoo bottle, exploited to make more money, now its not even your creator using you, now its everyone, you have become a common money making slut. Well you're living the high life, huge tour buses, screaming girls wanting to be with you, millions of dollars, but you've sold your soul my friend, sold it to the bigshots of enterprising. Good job my friend, you have totally lost it all, lost true friends and true music.
You step on stage once more, getting ready to hear your drummer play, but you realized, that because your creator has changed the songs to use such little drums, your drummer, your own cousin, was fired last week. Now the techno beat plays, and you sing in a voice that isn't your own, you're lip-synching now, and your fans go wild. What happened to the days of your amazing rock and roll?
You've sold your soul, you have lost all your fans who were with you from the start, you have lost your friends who couldn't believe what you've become, you've lost your music, because you cant even remember how to write a song, and you've lost your family, who you have not spoken too since you fired your cousin, but if you ever feel down, just remember, you have your creator, and the second you disobey him, you'll loose him too, and all your fans who don't even know that you aren't even using your own voice.
You have been reduce to a face, smiling when told, a puppet, a wind-up doll. No one really cares for you, just what you've become, a Disney Channel tool.
As you comeback from your gaze into the future, you put the pen down, and walk out of the office, you have just rejected a contract with Disney, refusing to sing a song about cheesy love.
You go to your next gig in front of 30 people, and perform the best you've ever had, and in the crowd was a man who owns a record company, he signs you on, and in the next year, you release your first album, of the music you chose, and you wrote.
Within the next 10 years, all the shirts with your bands name on it, are black, or dark colored. You have sold out venues, but never too drastic, you or no one else will ever wash their hair with shampoo with your face on it, and no one will tell you what to sing, you still care for your fans and your mentor guides you, but never changes you. And you look up while opening for the man who Disney signed after you rejected them, this man has more fame than you could ever get, but he got there because Disney wanted him there. You got where you are because you wanted to be there.
You look out and realize that Disney makes people who they want them to be, not caring for the person as long as they get the money, and they've stopped caring for people, they've stopped taking Walt Disney's ideals into mind a while ago.
Do you regret it? No you don't, because it was about the music, that's all you've every wanted.
well this story was already taken off but fuck you admin i'm putting it back up so stick that up your ass and suck on it you fucking bastards!