Billy's Instagram

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Yeah, no idea either. It's usually that way.
Just waiting for the new song to release. Getting antsy!

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http://instagr.am/p/BjIcDfiDzNJ

Yes Billy, such a mess. Get your shit together 🤣

[blackswan]

^^ for shame 

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http://instagr.am/p/BjLSPwbBGwg

🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

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http://instagr.am/p/BjNDlpsj830

🌞

[blackswan]

May 25, 2018 10:59:09 GMT -6 ashima said:

http://instagr.am/p/BjNDlpsj830

🌞

   ♥

[Deleted]

Yes....Yes to what?
I mean I'd say yes too because that sun reminds me of someone ☺

[Belteshazzar]

Caroline, Yes

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"You blow my mind"
Haven't heard that one in years

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He's seemingly in a good place according to his writings on Instagram.
Happy for him ☺

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Stole this image from my friend @laneyjones1967. In case you haven't noticed(?) , I love sharing the artwork of others, especially that which celebrates my work or the imagery associated with it. And though this may sound like a misplaced thought, it has taken me decades to embrace how I 'look' physically; for though I was in awe of my Mother's beauty -and my Father has always been considered quite handsome (and trust me, everyone always went out of their way to tell me)- my own family treated me like an ugly ducking. And told me so! (My brother being the 'beautiful one': their words not mine). So entering the public sphere as a young man of 18 or 19 my experiences were pretty much the same, with many an article written about my appearance (bad posture, crooked teeth, and of course, the unmissable 'chrome dome'; again, their words, not mine), and many a photo shoot where the photographers asked me to stand in the back not because I was tall but because they did not like my vampyrish countenance spoiling their shot. Now, let me be clear, I share these things not for sympathy but to hopefully inspire and encourage others to more so embrace, and gently so, their own beauty without the same kind of harsh, negative judgement that I bestowed on my own self year after year after year. To all this, there is no cute end: each of us is as God made us, or if you're more comfortable with the language: as Nature made us. And with kind eyes I say that everyone I encounter along the way is beautiful to me, and is loved deeply by someone out there for a very good reason. Because there's only one of you, just like there is -thank God!- only one of me. For if there was two it would certainly signal the end of the world. So that's a gentle joke for the fetching trolls lurking under my rainbow bridge. Be you, love you, and surrender to the power of Love. It really does move mountains, and as a parent now, I understand that so, so deeply. And wish I could back in time to those beautiful, beautiful boys living on Jill Ct in Glendale Heights and tell them so.


As a follow-up on yesterday's post about self-acceptance (especially as it pertains to looks and appearances), I'd like to add a few thoughts. But I'm only doing so due to the number of people who reached privately to say that my honesty was taken as some comfort and inspiration to them. For as much as I have said through the years, there's much more I don't say; the reasons being obvious. 
In therapy at some point in my life (early 2000's, most likely), the doctor suggested a mental exercise where I had to picture myself as a child and in doing so, actually verbalize what I would say to 'him' now As act of outward compassion, I found this extremely difficult and embarrassing. For feeling empathy for such an innocent child was the easy part. What was hard was understanding, and acutely so, why I was not willing to offer the same grace to myself in the present. As if the adult had somehow sinned where the child had not, and was worthy of scorn.
This of course is the critical voice of a destructive parent, taken on by that child, and extended into infinity. Which to my ear also sounds remarkably like those naysayers that say nothing I have ever done in public life or music has any value. Or my favorite, how yeah sure, I made one good album, but that was because I got lucky/stole all my ideas/or didn't really do-write-create the things I did and the band breaking up (7 years later, BTW), was evidence of my fraud. Again, like my previous post, I share these thing to illuminate the point. For I am no victim, and feel completely blessed and grateful to still be playing on these grand stages after 30 years with my brothers Jimmy and James and Jeff (and of course Jack and Katie too). So back to what I'm after: that inner critic, which manifested in the natural chaos of the world as monsters which hounded me, almost drove me to suicide many a time. Because I could find nothing to stop it's drumbeat. And no success, gold record, accolade, sold out show, triumph, magazine cover, or even the finishing of an album I'd worked a year on felt complete. To that I celebrated nothing, and dreaded all, because deep down I knew it would never be enough. (End of part 1)


(Part 2)
To be clear, I hate using my career (there's that word again LOL) as the illustrative thing, but it's what I know, and between the ages of 18 and 45 pretty much all I focused on to judge whether I was moving in the right or wrong direction to find the proverbial pot of shamrocks at the end of the rainbow. But the real damage done was too my body with so many years of neglect and self loathing, with my weight ballooning up to somewhere near 270-280 pounds. Food being something I'd use to comfort myself. So that too became a thing, like when my Father called to tell me (I guess with concern?) that I was now being referred to as 'Belly Corgan' on FB. 
So where does this all go, all these random threads of disharmony and in the true sense of the word, disease (or dis-ease). Pain, inner crippling pain, takes many outer forms: bad relationships, the loss of family ties, divorce, cutting (I did that too as a teen), drug abuse (check), and so on. I'm sure to those still reading I don't need to list every possible weapon used against ourselves. They are multitudinous and easily available. And there is no quick fix! It's easy to say trust yourself, or God, but if you don't love yourself these notions are somewhat quaint. 
But here's the thing: Love is there, God is there always, and WE need you. Love and God and Truth being indestructible in my mind. So ask yourself this question, and it will absolutely defeat that critic if you have the courage to give an honest answer: Which is, what is loveable in you? Now I didn't say what is worthy, cause that's a trick question, but Loveable (even the word sounds funny to me)
For if you accept the premise that there is only one of you, and can only ever be one, your value is in your distinction, your individuality, and yes, your voice. Which is why those that know you and care for you see you with such awe and wonder. And tenderness...The root, the very tendril that goes into the ground to draw up sustenance, is what connects you to this mad place. From dust you came and dust you'll return. But until then you have this magnificent opportunity to love and be loved, and to laugh. As you are: nothing more, and nothing less.

[Deleted]

We're currently on a 12 hour bus ride from Atlanta to Miami. Which means one is given much time to think. Firstly, let me say in regards to my recent posts about self-esteem, battling through negativity and so on (which if you read those posts you can empathize with me why they are hard to characterize) that I am absolutely floored by the response I have received, both in private and thru DM's, of those that are ailing. Perhaps it was the right tone, or that I managed to talk about such difficult things with a frank, yet positive honesty that triggered this outpouring, but I'd be remiss to not follow this up in some way that feels productive. And instead of going on as I'm won't to do, let's keep it simple...
If you are hurting, overwhelmed, or feel like you can't make it, please seek professional help. Trust me when I say this: what seems like weakness to the hurting mind and heart is actually STRENGTH and COURAGE. Do not doubt this. Just raise your hand and say 'I can't do this alone.'. And turn to someone you trust...
If you feel alone or are alone, that may be a symptom of a deeper condition where you've isolated yourself for self-protection but have taken it roo far. This I say from experience, as strange as it may seem to some. For there have been many days-weeks-months where I saw few and had little social contact, as I was so ashamed at my condition (and by condition I mean where I just couldn't maintain my place in the world comfortably without either compromise or faking it). Last thing (for now): there is no magic solution to what ails you. No one wants to live in a house built in a few hours. In my opinion, and it's just my opinion, a positive, happy, and rewarding life takes time to build. Brick by brick, nail by nail. So I'm not here to sell you anything but a map that might take you from here to there. 
When people ask, I cite God as what saved me, but they get lost in that (you know, the typical religious bs). God to me is just Love. So if you have a religious hangup, then Love saved me. And Love is like ketchup, it works on everything. So BE Love, ACCEPT Love, and OFFER Love to those in need. Even if the person in need is YOU.

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I was raised Catholic, and when you tell people that in modern America it becomes 'guilt by association'. Where the sins of the church, and they are legion, become of you. Yet many are surprised to hear that I rejected the church at age 8, and that is no lie. Now, I'm no theologian, but to my knowledge Jesus the Christ never spoke of forming a church headed by an anointed Pope. Yet he did muse how communion with one another, or with Mother Nature would help you find salvation. And so in that I did accept Jesus as my guide, and light out of the darkness. Which if you are looking for classification makes me more of a gnostic or pagan than a Christian. 
Why share all this? Because it forms a certain kind of lens by which I can demonstrate for you how I have (thus far) survived the storms of crippling self-doubt, weaponized negativity, suicidal impulses, and what I perceive as the enemy (or, that which stands against me; be it real, phantom, or ghost). So if you can get behind the dogma (let's call it 'my religion') and my story (which we are all entitled to as a story wholly our own), there might be something valuable for you in the ruins of my mind. 
And again, and I must say this, I am no victim, nor do I want anyone's sympathy. Empathy I'll take, for that is human kindness (to care). So my story is like a cartoon we can slow down and run in reverse. But it is no more important, nor will it ever be, than YOUR story. And claiming your own story is critical to this equation I'd like to lay out for you over time. 
So here's the jumping off point: the person you know as 'Billy Corgan' isn't real. But you are speaking to his author. 
Lastly, the messages keep pouring in of those touched by these more reflective posts. Each one I've read makes me want to praise whomever runs this Universe for choosing this warbly singer as their instrument for healing. It truly is humbling. 
So if you're ailing, I pray for you to find peace. Rich or impoverished, famous or hidden, each deserve's God's Love. For man (in the biblical use of the word) is a piss poor judge.

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williampcorgan

You have to love the Internets. Seems this is a new meme going around (someone sent this to me) where I guess the question is(?): Is T Swift my child. Hmm...
I'll take the compliment of the comparison here despite the fact that I guess the jokes on me? (and not the lovely and talented Miss Swift) Which becomes a good starting point back into where I left off last time; on notions of image/self-esteem/God/and self-love. But before I do let me express how I continue to be blown away by the number of messages I am receiving regarding these issues. There simply is no end to how many are struggling, and it seems to have some connection to this modern or Digital Age culture we are living in. Where what's real is just as relevant, or so it appears, as to what is constructed, fake or false. Where a real you must negotiate time-space next to the more shiny or dark social media avatar of you, and so on and so forth up the food chain of governments and endless celebrity. Each tier of human life augmented to the point where what you no longer know what, or whom, to believe in; including God. 
And for those new to the game, it is easiest for me to speak of my own experience. So please consider that I do so as illustration. Take from it as you will...
There is NO such person as 'Billy Corgan'. He (BC) does not exist. Or, if he does exist (per these times), he is a creation from my mind to yours, and no different than a cartoon drawing of Batman or Sponge Bob. 
Trace the route: from 1967 to 1985 I was Bill Corgan, born WPC. My father was known to us as Billy, so he does exist, but the 'Billy' I speak of, the one who made records with SP and appeared on chat shows, was a creation. And I still remember the day around age 18 when I told someone, 'don't call me Bill anymore. I am Billy now...' Now why would I do such a thing? Because Bill, or Little Bill as I was known to the family, was beaten, harassed, broken and discarded over so many years, and in so many separate instances (let's say the number of disassociative events is in the thousands) that he (Bill) was WORTHLESS to me. But Billy Corgan, a construct of my own making, with a different walk, haircut, and...end pt 1

5 HOURS AGO

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williampcorgan

PT 2 (cont)
But Billy Corgan, a construct of my own making, with a different walk, haircut, and even eyes that I purposely changed (from fully open to ovals half closed, like those of a snake), he was a new being around which I could invent any story as I pleased. And look no further than Bob Dylan's transformation from Robert Zimmerman (albeit for different reasons) as example. Like him, I simply invented myself anew. 
The why and wherefore is simple:
A/ he was better than I, and certainly more interesting, and capable in ways I couldn't have dreamt of even months before while I was still in school...
And B/ when things went wrong, or I misstepped,, it was 'his' fault and not mine. Billy being a shield against all that ails me in the world. 
Consider this: as much as I've spoken of my childhood, I've yet to tell the real story. And if I was using that childhood to market my records (as BC was often accused of during the early 90's), would I have not told a worse story for sympathy, rather than an abridged one that spoke of where BC had mythically come from (and which also in foreshadowing spoke of where he planned to go). If this sounds confusing, note, it was to me as well, and to those around me. My parents questioned what I was up to, as they generally did not know Billy Corgan, this avatar. But they certainly knew Bill, and were quite comfortable pitting their invented stories against my very real one (and if they weren't, than the abuse could never have occurred). To those that have been harmed so, you know exactly what I'm speaking of here. 
And it was certainly confusing to the band, who on a day to day basis dealt with WPC, and not Billy Corgan. Although you could argue that the more I played at this character, the more I became him; like an actor who's been in a role so long (William Shatner as Captain Kirk) that he assumes the attributes of said character cause it's just easier that reminding anyone there might be a difference. 
So last thing for today, and it's something I told the NY Times (in a thought I believe that was not printed): -You can keep Billy Corgan, he is dead, and he's there for you to mock and use as you wish-

4 HOURS AGO