Having been raised a Pentecostal in the American south, I can sing all the suffering of the human condition and the passion of a heart on fire into a song. I know how to close my eyes, clench my fists, tilt my head and let my soul howl to the heavens. I am grateful for this.
There is no substitute for honesty and sincerity. I am not moved by your distracted, half-hearted exercise of training and technique. You can go to hell. You have to make yourself believe, if only for the length of the song, or you won't convince anyone else.
Tolkien's god created the world through song. Sing like that.
Hello, everyone. Tell me something good.
Later. Love.