Certainly there's a world where the author just knew, at some point in this process, "let me just give this giant stressor of a problem to a lawyer"—without losing whatever it means to "be an artist" or opportunities at growth he attributes to only occurring because he was awful at business.
Yeah I feel a twist in my gut for this guy. He is so frustrated it's incredible. He wrote 90% more than he needed to on this topic. The essay is long and rambling and I've missed any point he's trying to make... much like the words of his "End Poem". They are senseless and, ultimately, meaningless. They are not deep. They are incoherent. No wonder he's stuck in a narrative of his own creation. That's his life. If his…
The end poem is fine. It doesn’t have particularly interesting rhythm, sound or structure in a ‘poetic’ way until the last bit. It has some weird stops, starts and repetition, but it’s coherent overall and has a functional enough core metaphor. Plus, the payoff is being told you matter, that you’re not alone. You know, the ‘we are all made of stars’ bit. It can be a powerful thought if you let it.