The last few days have been crazy for me, so I haven’t had a chance to sit with some real music and just let it take me away. Music has been my drug of choice for a few years now. It’s how I make my escape from everyone else’s morbid realities. I say; “morbid“, because that’s what I see. So and so, yapping about their back pains and headaches, wondering out loud if they’re dying. And even when people aren’t being morbid they are being morbid. Baby momma drama, late payments on bills, depreciating assets purchased on a whim.
Meanwhile, here I am running around like I have no worries. Wine bar (il vino) on the Upper East Side the moment I land in the city. Upper East to Lelabar in the West Village. Quality Eats? Not worth the wait since we’ve been to Quality Italian and Quality Meats already. Tropical in Little Italy and then the unannounced after hours with the sexy girlfriend?
Why the fuck not?
Mind on my money, money on my mind. Above all, my son is heavy in the forefront of my thoughts.
Best friends become strangers. Love turns into danger.
I’ve been so afraid to write about my reality from fear of the repercussions of my son’s mother, that I’ve cheated myself, and ultimately YOU, of some good work. Watching The Breaks on t.v. a little earlier made me realize that the part of me that doesn’t give you my rawest stories is like that wack ass M.C. that no one ever relates to. The part of me that gives you: “The Real”, is what ends up being great. Therefore, “The Real” parts of me is all that I have to give. And here, those real parts go:
I tried telling my son’s mom that I have had a girlfriend since before she announced her pregnancy to me. To backtrack, I sent her an email explaining why we shouldn’t and couldn’t be intimate anymore prior to that announcement. Which incidentally went to straight to the garbage can the moment she did announce. I was happy. I won’t lie, but I was also conflicted.
Now, my definition of “girlfriend” is not what you would expect. That just means: “girl that I’m fucking with no condom, frequently, and kind of diggin'”.
A lot has happened in the past few weeks/months. I guess being faded is the only real way for me to deviate from those morbid realities that I’m surrounded by, in order to create realities that everyone else wishes: “could be”. I assume that the only real way to be honest to those that know my true identity is through a pen name that they could have all guessed if they were paying real close attention to me.
2016 is going to be all about vibe. I don’t care that you want more EDM in your headphones. Fuck you, actually because when we put the planet on to EDM you were still figuring out how to use toilet paper properly.
2016 is all about energy and mood. It’s about feeling confident in the craziness that occurs in your mind. It’s about no longer wondering if you are crazy or not and just taking chances.
If you don’t fuck with this, then fuck off and come back another day when there is something that you do fuck with. Life can be just that simple.