Maybe it’s just my asshole planet talking [Mars in Scorpio], but I find it amusing that the guy who wrote Rent had a song lamenting how he’d love to write just one good song before he died.
And then he died just before the initial opening night. [Which was really the best thing that could have ever happened for Rent because it created a whole mythology around what is essentially a mediocre cheeseball offering.]
And having seen the damn play, I’d argue there was a certain amount of prescience and self-knowledge in that song…
But then I’ve never been much of one for musical theatre.
Others, usually the sort who collect Precious Moments figurines from Hallmark, would have you believe it’s all rather poignant and not at all hilarious.
Either way, careful what you write. Sometimes it manifests in ways you might not anticipate.