Sunday, April 02, 2017


I don't partake in conversation(s) about the current landscape of music.
I just break down what you're receiving.
Southern acts dominate the mainstream with the Trap sound, and it's become a standard.
Boom nap is considered an old man's sport.
I don't speak on who I think is hot.
I dont speak on much, really.


Celebrities forget that their opinion becomes public record.
And they go very far with it.
Opinions win you Grammys, however.
I won't speak on the Grammy selection process, because all you have to do is watch the end credits for the Grammys.

All I do is offer who I am.

Lately (technically in the last 7 years), I've been asking who I am.
I was cock sure that I was Sonic.
Then I met and fell in love with Christina.
Then I lost my identity.
Perhaps she didn't/doesn't know who or what she is.
Regardless, we SHARED Sonic.
I was uncomfortable, but I was in love.

I have no business being in a relationship.
A common phrase.
Very true to me, nevertheless.

It doesn't look like Uncle Jeff is picking me up today.
Upsetting, but expected.
I won't diss him on my blog anymore, but he's a helluva target musically.
So he should expect to cringe in the near future.

So much more to say, but with The World ambiguously watching and listening, I once again seal my lips.
It's like this, though.
I'm giving you the raw emotions of a Black male rape victim who only believes in Sonic and SEGA.
My mission is to inspire.
My goal was a Grammy.

I hope God understands my mic presence now.

I'm gone.

~follow the buzzards~

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