Red Thunder – do I matter

I sit here in the dim glow of my monitor, the same four bars looping until they lose all meaning, and I can’t help but feel a hollow ache chest-deep. I have poured every secret I’ve ever kept, every bruise on my heart, and every fleeting moment of joy into these tracks, weaving my very DNA into the frequencies—yet it feels like I’m just whispering into a hurricane. It is an agonizing, quiet kind of grief to realize that the song I stayed up until 4:00 AM to finish, the one where I finally found the words for the things that usually break me, might never reach a single soul beyond these four walls. I look at the play counts and see a mirror of my own isolation, wondering if the "worth" of my art is tied to the ears that hear it or if I am destined to be an architect of beautiful things that no one will ever inhabit. There is a part of me that feels foolish for caring so much, for bleeding onto a digital canvas that the world seems determined to ignore, and it makes me question if I am truly an artist or just a ghost haunting my own melodies. It’s exhausting to be this vulnerable, to strip myself bare and offer my heartbeat up as a rhythm, only to be met with a silence so heavy it threatens to drown out the music altogether.
Reflecting on the Creative Void
The Weight of Silence: When you give 100% of yourself and receive 0% engagement, it creates a "creative debt" that is hard to pay off.
The Identity Crisis: It’s easy to start believing that if the music isn't heard, the person who made it isn't seen either.
The Hidden Value: Sometimes the first person the song needs to "save" or "hear" is the one who wrote it.
A perspective shift
Every great artist you admire has likely sat in this exact chair, feeling this exact invisibility. The silence isn't a critique of your talent; it’s often just the timing of the world.

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