Let’s keep this real.

In early January 2022, after a half-decade long string of events, I had a psychological breakdown and became so overwhelmed with depression that I had an inescapable urge to kill myself. While my moral constitution would never, repeat never, ever want to commit suicide and leave my parents & loved ones with any notion that they didn’t do enough or failed me in some regard, the feelings I had of self destruction were real. And, despite attempts to move on, the gravity of it all became too much.

So what happened? Well, a lot of the details only started unraveling themselves to me after-the-fact. In 2017, I had released my 2nd solo album, “Stupid Girls Are Ugly,” and noticed shortly after the release of a video, that certain persons in our community started treating me with disgust. It was revealed to me that a sociopathic narcissistic ex-girlfriend I had from 2012– a person who was emotionally & physically abusive; cheated on me; would frequently try to goad me with physical & verbal violence into fighting her; who would frequently try to emasculate me in public in front of her friends; who would repeatedly & violently break up with me and then beg me to take her back the following day; who asked me to marry her & I declined; who told me whether I liked it or not she was going to have my baby; who tried to get pregnant with other men’s seed in attempts to dupe me; who trashed our house after dumping me the day after Christmas; and who I had to call 911 on 12/27/2012 (or 12/28) after she began slashing her arms with a butcher knife and threatening to defame me if I left the house to get a haircut (true story)-- this woman had sent personal FB messages out to people in the local community, telling them that I was abusive towards her & that supporting my music/pursuits would be supporting abusers. The irony, right? The current events of the Depp VS Heard trial are all too real for me. There should be a public record of the 911 call for Lowndes County GA, if anyone is interested in fact-checking me.

The kicker is that this initial domino of what would become a defamation campaign was not even brought to my attention by any of the “friends” in our local music community she messaged. The people who DID bring this to my attention were my friends in our local tattoo industry about 2 years later (we’ll get to that in a moment.) One of the people she contacted is the current wife of my abuser's ex-spouse, a local tattooist who was married to her years before she and I dated in 2012. Many of the people my abuser contacted would still feign politeness to me when they saw me in public, yet would join in discussions about me once I left their presence, or unfriended me and acted like we were still pals.

I took a bit of a break in 2018 and got engaged. Then, in 2019, after the engagement failed, I found myself going back to shows in Valdosta again, and now the scowls were much more apparent. After an art show on 5/4/2019, the featured artist, myself, & others went to a local pub to commend the artist on a great show. Whilst I was there, I saw some old faces that were telling me weird reassurances like, “You know I love you,” and “It’s gonna be okay,” which struck me as rather odd. Until the following day, when a friend of mine confronted me (not aggressively) that they needed to speak with me about something important: one of the patrons (and old fan of mine, someone who claimed to be a friend, and an ally of my abuser) was going around telling people at the pub that I was a r*pist, and had become alt-right with friends who were white nationalists. When this friend of mine, and others, asked her who my alleged victim was, she said that she couldn’t say but that “you all know her, trust me.” I sent her a text asking why people were telling me that she was going around telling people I'm a r*pist, but was ignored after getting a read receipt, then was blocked. A few weeks later, after an unworldly amount of confusion & sorrow, my tattooist friends brought to my attention the initial message campaign from “Stupid Girls Are Ugly” in front of the other friend who confronted me about the art show, and things started to make more sense. I also learned that the person at the art show had a record of falsely accusing men of being r*pists to ruin their reputation. It was around this time I decided I wanted to invert their defamation campaign, and create a podcast where I could instead highlight and share all of the different people in my community I loved instead of giving energy to the hateful people trying to ruin me.

Now, I don’t live my life in whispers. I’ve got 57 episodes of a podcast (roughly a week’s worth of audio) putting myself out there: as authentic as I can be. In all honesty, any attempts of me to try to “fake it” or be disingenuous in my words with that much data would be foolhardy and easily detected. I’ve even addressed claims of abuse that were made against me, and what I’ve actually done on the New Southern Heretics episode, “Sex, Violence, & BDSM.” I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Far from it. And, yeah, I’ve fucked up and wronged people before, but you have to be honest with what you’ve done, take responsibility, and ask for forgiveness. Not from any deity, but you have to ask it from the people you’ve wronged. Sometimes folks will forgive you, and sometimes they won’t. That’s their prerogative. But what you can’t do, is you can’t continue to make the same mistakes, because then those aren’t mistakes. You can’t accidentally hurt people repeatedly. Regardless– as I’ve said on the show before, I’ll put every foul thing I’ve ever done on the internet, yet I doubt these folks would be willing to do the same. Through the experience of the podcast, being open/honest/vulnerable with the myriad of guests, I began to learn much more about who else was lending a hand in my would-be cancellation.

A local hack, also a former friend/fan, had invited me to be on his podcast in Feb 2017 to help promote the upcoming aforementioned 2nd album. I brought a bag of cocaine for he & I to share, which we did. We laughed and had a good conversation, which included concepts of ‘stupidity’, and how a lot of things we accept as ‘known’ have actually never been scientifically proven accurate– one of which is heliocentrism. I went on to discuss that geocentrism isn’t necessarily flat earth, but there were globular models as well, and that if the planet rotates/moves has actually never been proven. What’s proven is that there IS rotation, and it’s relative (meaning we physically cannot tell if we’re spinning thru space, or if earth is fixed & space twirls around us.) Two weeks later, I saw him again, and he gave some excuse as to why the episode hadn’t been published yet, and I have not seen him since. The episode never came out, and I assumed he had some personal issues & needed time. When ‘Stupid Girls’ did come out early that summer, I noticed around that time a picture he shared as a FB post of my abuser, posing as she held up a protest sign in downtown Valdosta, and talking about ‘how proud he was of (his) friend,” for taking a stand for human rights. I found out later he joined in her crusade, and began telling people that I was an unironic flat earther, in an attempt to further ostracize me, defame me, and earn the favor of my abuser– my guess is he wanted pussy, the greatest motivator for simps.

The podcast also taught me that a lot of these folks who joined in gossiping about me think very little of my intelligence, as some actually asked their friends, after receiving an invite from me to be on the podcast, if they could tag along. They put energy into defaming me, and then wanted to be on my show. Brilliant. Their requests were denied.

To bring it up to more recent events, in December 2021, I had a show booked (in August) at a local dive with a local band, a touring band, and the ‘singer’ of a local hardcore band doing his poetry. When I stopped in on Thanksgiving, about a week before the show, I was told by the owner that I was no longer on the show, as the tour manager for the headlining band, we’ll call Zapp, whom I’ve never met & mean no disrespect towards whatsoever, sent a message to the owner asking that I not be allowed to play. When I asked what happened, the owner feigned confusion and then blamed the local band for contacting Zapp. When I asked what about the local hardcore kid, a former employee of the bar, he deflected and began reiterating that it must have been the other band. He then told me not to worry, he’d put me on another show in December…. It’s now May and I’ve yet to hear from him again.

Notwithstanding, what I learned is that the hardcore kid was who had ties with Zapp. At their previous show in Valdosta, at the aforementioned hack’s venue, the hack couldn’t come up with the money to pay the band after the show (whoops). So, the hardcore kid (a friend of the hack) paid the band out of his own pocket, which is a nice thing to do, I’m not gonna pretend it’s not, and shitty for the hack to book a band and then be unable to pay them afterwards. So, then he presumably used this leverage with the band to have me removed from the lineup on the December show. What was said to get me removed? I don’t know.

What I do know is that this hardcore kid is an adulterer, and was a lover of my abuser. When my abuser was married to her tattooist husband, a friend of the hardcore kid at the time, the hardcore kid would fuck his friend’s wife behind his back, which is a rotten thing to do. Now, over the years I’ve done benefit shows for this hardcore kid’s band, made artwork for free for he & his wife, donated to his charity drives– things I would consider friendly stuff. He cannot play any instruments, but told me once in 2019 after a show I performed that I was his favorite local lyricist other than himself (wow, thanks.) He was one of these fools who unfriended me in 2017 from the abuser’s initial campaign, talked shit about me behind my back, and yet would feign politeness or that we were pals when he saw me in public around other people. Since allegedly having me removed from the show in December, his wife has now unfriended me too. My guess is she was relaying information on me back to he and/or my abuser– who are all friends. I’m also guessing that either they’re all consensually polyamorous (no judgment) or he’s sleeping with his old lover behind both of their spouses’ backs (judgment). Again– pussy is the greatest motivator for simps.

Then, in January 2022, there were two events within the same week that finally caused me to break. On January 2nd, I posted my year-in-review podcast episode, and a fan of the show commented how it was a goal of hers to be on an episode one day. I saw the comment shortly before 11:00pm, and since I didn’t really know her personally (and it was rather late), I decided I would message her the following day to make arrangements to have her on. They found her dead from suicide around 6:00am. Now, I don’t have many fans, so I cannot tell you, especially in context of these events, how much I appreciate, value, and am humbled by the fans I do have. But how I interpret it in hindsight is she needed someone to talk to then, and I failed to help her out. The guilt I felt for not reaching out– good God– was indescribably burdensome. And yeah, I know I am not responsible for other people’s choices, but if I had messaged her, maybe I could have said something– anything– that would have altered her state of mind, and kept her here long enough to get some help, but I didn’t. I chose inaction instead, and the consequences of that inaction are not a comfortable feeling to put it mildly. Nonetheless, there’s nothing I can do to change it. This feeling is mine, and mine alone, forever.

Two days later, I was scheduled to play a show at another venue. Upon arrival, the sound guy took me outside and explained that he couldn’t have me perform anymore– all whilst acting as if he was really upset and difficult for him to do. When I asked why, he said it was because “women see you on stage, and they don’t like it. It makes them uncomfortable.” Flabbergasted, I asked for specific details on what he was talking about. He said that he’d heard rumors that I preyed on women, and it wasn’t good for the bar to have me on stage…HOWEVER, he said I was still welcome to come to the venue and SEE OTHER PEOPLE PLAY. Now, this doesn’t make much sense since if I were convinced that another musician was a sex predator who preys on the patrons at the venue I work at, they would be banned outright at minimum.

Additionally, when I asked him specifically for tangible data– what was said, what did I do, who said it– he initially told me I was “just taking it personal.” When I remarked it sounded like a bird had gotten in his ear, he said “no this is my idea I've been struggling with for months,” to which I replied “Oh. So, you don’t like me, and you don’t want me to be a part of this,” which he denied and said again that I was just taking it personal. I asked again for him to tell me what the specific accusation was: what was said that I did, and who said it; he shrugged and looked over his left shoulder. I responded, “So you’re not going to tell me what’s been said and who said it?” Another shrug. I told him that this was dumb, I was grabbing my gear to go home, and facetiously wished him good luck on becoming a producer. Upon going inside, around other people, he cheerfully told me “no hard feelings.” I sarcastically shouted “You just called me a sex predator, but sure no hard feelings,” bringing the attention of the few people inside. The duo who invited me to play with helped me load my gear out, before I could foolishly escalate the situation.

To give insight, this particular sound guy is a coke boy who helps facilitate cocaine into the Valdosta music scene at the venue where he works, and has used his access to cocaine to manipulate, control, and prey upon female friends of mine who have a drug problem. One such person (an old friend) whom I’ve known for nearly 10 years & was there for me when my engagement ended, would not even acknowledge me the last time she saw me in public in front of him (6 days before these events), as he did not want her being friends with me anymore, and is one of her primary sources for coke. Additionally, she & a couple other of these same women he uses drugs to control are fans of my art/music/podcast, and have been romantic with me in some regard, sometimes in public at the bar where he works, neither of which he seemed to like. I’ve also had other musicians whom he has projects with who also worked with me on some of my projects, which he also did not seem to like. He’s also followed me around to spy on me when talking with women at the bar, in his not-so-subtle powdered-nose paranoia, and in one case telling a young lady whom I had been introduced to by a friend earlier that night that she needed to watch out and insinuated I might try to put something in her drink (she understandably left quickly & awkwardly thereafter.)

People who have actually seen me out & about would know that whenever I do go to a show, I usually find a table to quietly sit & watch the show alone; I keep to myself, and mostly only speak with other musician friends or people I’ve known for years. Most of the interactions I have with women at shows are when they approach me (shocker for some, I’m sure.) What I believe is most likely is that he felt I was encroaching on “his territory” and “his girls”. And that because many of his friends like me, he chose to do it in ambush style to likely get me to overreact & do it in private so that he can control the narrative more easily. So to justify his envy, he calls me a sex predator who’s welcome to stay but isn’t allowed to perform until he says so. Pass.

Needless to say, with all of that, I’d finally reached a breaking point of feeling like I was a piece of shit, and had started to believe it. And while I know in my heart that’s not the case, when you’re being tormented constantly from the shadows by people who just want to tear you down, the lies become convincing after a while. I didn’t want to be around anymore because I felt there were more people who didn’t want me here than who did want me here.

There are people whom I’ve made numerous records with in the past who no longer return my texts, but still follow my posts. There are people whom I’ve had family dinner and art shows with who stopped speaking to me altogether, but whose partner still follows me regularly. And that’s fine; these people don’t owe me anything– nobody does. I’m an intense & polarizing person who has a crass sense of humor, and very unorthodox ideas which I’m unafraid to rant about like a lunatic at times— people have every right to dislike me or not want to be around me. I get it.

But, if I am such a wretched & abusive predator, it’s rather odd to me that no one talked with any of my other long-term ex-girlfriends about what kind of partner I was when this initially started 5+ years ago. Why did none of them talk to Sierra, Demeshia, Carrie, or Raven if they were so concerned? Why did nobody bring any charges against me if I were beating & preying on women? Why did nobody ask for tangible data other than word-of-mouth from people who had clear biases against me? Why did almost nobody even bring it to my attention? Why? Because most people don’t want to get involved and the others don’t care about me nor the truth– they care about validating their envy and tearing me down. They care about being an ally to the idea of me being a bad person so they can justify why they dislike me, rather than bringing it public for the truth to be revealed in court, or just say “I dislike Colter because he makes me feel bad about myself.”

However, by coming public with it, they’d also run the risk of exposing themselves to be frauds & hucksters. Rather than their own reputation, some of these folks might want to be more concerned about a possible defamation lawsuit and/or a book I write wherein their names will be publicly blasted as they’ve done to mine, except I intend to be honest. Call me cocky, but I’m fairly confident that at least half of the people who have read this long-winded post would also be inclined to read a book of these experiences (and others!) in great detail. Some might say it would even be a profitable idea that people would take an interest in. Hmm, you know to err on the side of caution, I’d recommend they ‘lawyer up’ just to be safe. I have a few attorneys in my circle, personally.

Now why would I dare say these particular music scene folks are envious of me? Well, my own musical talent (or lack thereof) aside, I’m productive: since April 2016, I’ve released 43 songs as a solo artist. Additionally, all of my music since 2019 (31 of the 43 songs) has been 100% DIY, with the albums made from my own home. Despite my lack of quality engineering skills & high-end gear, which will improve with time, I am able to create my own albums without the help of anyone. I don’t need other musicians, producers, studios, or to fake a theoretical orgasm & dick-ride other local bands to validate my work. My work can speak for itself, in all of its controversy. Point being, they have to rely on other people, sometimes fully, in order to bring their ideas to fruition. Despite their attempts to cast me out, defame me, and exclude me, I’ve come to terms that while I may not have a social presence locally anymore, I’m still able to write & release my music from my home. None of them can do what I can– simply put. I don’t think that I’m better than most by any means, for whatever it’s worth, but I do think I’m better than them, and in more ways than one at that.

Honestly, I never wanted to bring any of this to light. Not because of fear or something of the sort, but because I didn’t want to validate or give power to any of their balderdash. Nor did I want to open old wounds, nor have to talk about it in general. Nor did I want to have to explain to people that in actuality it was I, a male, who was a victim in the exchange– especially during the ‘believe all women’ cultural narrative. In particular, my abuser has attempted for years to get a reaction out of me, and to get her own diss track written in her honor (you will never get a song from me written in your honor, but your sycophants are fair game.) But after 5+ years, I’m exhausted. I’m tired of having to defend my name. I’m tired of having to convince people that I’m a good person. I’m tired of having to explain to potential partners what I’ve been through with abusers, stalkers, adulterers, coke boys, faux political activists, poser musicians, and thots who thought I owed them a baby in their belly. It’s too much drama, and nobody wants to be a part of that, no matter how attracted they may be to me. Yet this is where I’ve found myself. So I decided to put everything out there instead, and let the chips fall where they may, as I’m done letting poisonous people dictate my reality.

So, rather than kill myself, I decided to make an album instead. “An Idiot’s Masterpiece” is my 5th solo album. Created in 4 months, from January - April 2022. I’m so thankful for each & every day I’m alive. While I’m a bit more distrusting of people than I have been before, I’m so blessed to have the small support system that I do. Thank you to all those who stuck by me when you didn’t have to, to every guest & local musician I’ve had on my podcast, to everyone who’s contacted me over these past 3-4 months to check in, and most importantly to the few friends who did the right thing and brought all of this to my attention. If you’re ever in a similar state of despondency & woe, don’t let the void take you. Take action. Do something. Creation is always better than destruction, but destruction is easier than creation. Results make for great revenge, and I’ve decided instead of suicide that it would bring me more joy to make these people dissatisfied with my existence while in turn I grow as an artist.

Oh, and for the record, the full names/details of the perpetrators referred to herein have been provided to other persons as a dead man’s switch. If something should happen to me, there are measures already in place. FAFO.

This album is dedicated to Alyssa Rose Goen; I’m so sorry I didn’t do more.