~Enter the Hamilton~

My Beloveds!!!

Words are escaping me as of late. I either write a poem, write a blog post or record a song to get them out.

November 10th, 2026 ranks as the best day out of my 39 years.

I’ve really had no reason to celebrate, nor the means to. And yes, I’ve received donations from StarChasers, but it all went back into the music. The music, of which is fine-tooth combed and criticized.

I can’t blame yall tho.

My music requires faith and belief.

So does EVERYTHING ELSE OUT THERE.

And the one other person who did it on a similar level is no longer a fleshly being (Mr. Deezy).

MY STARCHASERS CAME TO PLAY.

And came to win.

I am humbled to be known by so many.

I am honored to know the few.

I promise Ima keep rockin.

Just gotta get my health up to par.

(15 minutes later…)

Grandma just called. She and Uncle G couldn’t make it to the show. Bummer, but it was to take care of Grandma. All that matters to me is her health and happiness. I’m learning to grow past those I love and miss, to become someone WORTHY of being loved and missed. I don’t see suicide as an option anymore. Granted because of Halo and SKE the Heistman, but mostly because it would kill Grandma and disappoint the rest of my family. Uncle G only has *drKiwi* and his new wife, so his NephDawg would be missed. Dad is hiding how much he loves me, so that would suck for him. Idk… I feel liberated in GRAPHICALLY talking about my suicide.

It’s like Nicki’s ass humor.

I talk about it ‘cause it’s there.

Doesn’t mean it’s fake.

I just have control of it.

Okay, enough about Nicki’s butt.

Special thank you to Billionaire Dre and Royally Roy for helping put the night together, and keeping me focused when it was business time. The Sonic birthday cake was DEELISH!!! The rings were made of chocolate!

So many people to shout out. BIG UP to Yung Nate for coming through and performing with me. SHOUTS to Sha-Leik for drawing a line in the sand, as far as who loves and knows me and who’s posing. KESED, my Young Lion. Enjetic, The Long Island King. ETCETERA, flyer than Kanye. SKE!!!!!!!!! Heistman rules!!! Mr. Middleton and Mr. Harris from FDA!!! Brother Earl!!! Ashley F.!!! I believe I saw Randy Vargas from Junior High School (School of the Ascension)!!! Saint Vil came through (iT guy from Demev, FDA ‘06)…

Nigga.

NEW YORK came thru.

Yall done warmed this Cleveland boy’s heart.

This might not be the last time you see me.

Next stop:

40!

Until then, I’ll see FDA on Alumni Day and StarChasers on NYE, @ YouTube.com/TheTalentedMrHamilton.

Take pride in your uniforms, —Aliens and LionsDem!!

I’ll be around.

Sooner than you know.

~Enter the Hamilton~

A November Feast

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Shouts to my Brooklyn Girl Berniece "Leila" Wooden!

I had to dip into my bag for an interview with her.

Enjoy!

~Enter...~

StarChaser Activity

write-up: I built the coolest thing I have ever made, and last night Charles Hamilton posted it himself.

http://listen.charleshamilton.app is a player I designed and built for Charles Hamilton's catalog. 1,218 songs, streaming free, and it never stops playing.

Everything in it was a decision:

The catalog: over 1,200 tracks pulled from the archives, cleaned, cataloged, and hosted so any song can start in a tap.

Endless playback: press play once and it shuffles forever. Built to live on a tablet in a room, screen on, and to keep playing with the screen off.

The Tape: a live spectrogram waterfall that renders the song as it plays. You watch the music leave, which makes you stay. Every player shows you a progress bar. This one shows you the sound.

A listeners board: listening is scored, live. Points accrue fractionally while a song plays, to two decimal places, so you see your score move every second. Finishes pay a bonus. The first time you hear a track each week pays bigger. Milestones pay for long sessions and finish streaks.

An honest economy: only 8 hours a day count toward your score, because the board should reward listening, not idling. An anti-cheat layer checks every reported play against the clock, so nobody can fake minutes they did not hear.

Identity with no accounts: you claim a name with a password and get a public code. The server stores only a cryptographic hash. There is no password reset, by design. Lose it and the name is gone, like the old internet.

Three views: Standings, where the crown sits. My Road, your rank and the gap to the listener above you. And a back room that ranks the songs themselves by completion rate, with track lengths printed next to the percentages so a 30-second interlude cannot fake its way past a 6-minute record.

The skin: a retro game system look skinned in the site's own colors. Black ground, white type, one pink. It looks like it sounds.

The infrastructure: a self-healing database that repairs its own migration state on boot, an always-on server, and a custom domain with its own certificate.

I teach 8th grade science during the day. I built this at night, for the artist who made me want to build anything at all.

Last night he found it, played it, and posted it to his own timeline with the words "This changes everything."

Then his listeners showed up. The board has strangers on it now, competing to listen to Charles Hamilton.

Go take the crown from them:

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Reg, (@kanye on twitter) words cannot express my gratitude. I am honored and humble. And I will keep pumping out the records, "as long as you keep turnin' this mu'fucka up!".

In fact, I'm about to take it higher.

The Charles Hamilton Stream Player

~Enter the Hamiltton~

T.H.E. artwork

A lot of love is being shown to this album.

I am "over the moon!", as The Devil would say.

I encourage DJs to add THE WHOLE album to their playlist.

DIG for the breaks.

Especially ONE DJ, out there spinnin' for the love.

You can find him in The Bronx.

You can find him in Brooklyn.

You can find him in Harlem.

He's probably gonna wife a woman in Queens.

Which, once again, leaves Staten Island.

Of the details I'm keeping to myself about this album, the ARTWORK itself was designed by Staten Island's own Lou From Paradise. We were having one of our nightly pow-wows, and... I think I just recorded an album that evening. Fast forward, I tapped out in my living room chair and Lou took a snapshot. He processed it using an aI program, and somehow woke me up to send it to me.

It's supposed to be me, in the center of Harlem, SLEEPING, in the midst of all this chaos.

I had no clue what was going on uptown.

But the hood is hood-ing.

I pray for my people.

ALL FIVE BOROUGHS.

"It's like a jungle sometimes..."

More music is on the way. Such can be guaranteed.

As soon as I saw it, I got inspired.

aI DOESN'T HAVE TO BE a bad thing.

Especially when there's hard work in OTHER fields of the presentation.

Bear with me/us, y'all. We can either forever be keeping up, or be left behind forever.

#TheWitchDrDre

#StrayDogs_walk_together

~Enter the Hamilton~

New York Flair!!! or Flare

After yesterday's beat sparring session w/ R-o, I came uptown to Harlem to work on some joints while I'm in the city. Let's just say that I stepped it up.

Rockin my NvrHome cap. Peace to Shapeshifter Dre for the fit and Lou From Paradise for putting the squad together.

YES, I use force in my music. *HOWEVER*, I SLEPT ON how much ELECTRICITY I use in my music. I dead KNOW I make Elektro (eg. Bambatta, deadmau5, etc.). I just spit (slam poetry/wax poetics), play Acid Jazz and produce Hip-Hop (records).

Long story short, I caused a power outage with my production tonight. lol!

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Seemed fake at first, but The Spirit of Harlem said to ease up a bit. So I switched from NvrHome to my Stray Dogs fedora. Hopefully I can wear my fedora more often in South Central. Apparently, fedoras are a gang thing.

I was just acknowledging Dilla.

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I fucked around and went lighter, and... wow!!!

You'll soon see...

~Enter the Hamilton~

Dead alive in the city

I always wanted to take a picture at that crosswalk. It's right there down by SOBs. Granted my name holds weight already, I wanted to STAND WITH the weight I hold to be able to SUCCESSFULLY take this picture.

Y'all know I'm from Cleveland, right?

I more than missed the city. Still moves at a bullet's pace, the women are edible and the men are dangerous. So far I've been to 4 out of 5 boroughs (NOTHING PERSONAL, STATEN ISLAND! I don't go where I have no connections; peace to Lou, Squid Nice and... Alyssa), dead including Far Rockaway. So BX, BK, Manhattan (upper and lower) and Queens. They call Far Roc "the 6th borough". Much love to my peoples out there. \

Maine Brooks, my BX AllStar, is posted in Far Roc, doin his thing. Was great to see him and catch up. Peace to my lil homie R-o, posted in BK from Baltimore. He showed me the basics of the SP404. I have plans to get one (shouts to JPEGMafia), but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get down. Much love to my beloved Jilly App, posted in The Bronx from ALL OVER NY. We had a few drinks and listened to Griselda (with her pretty self!). Also love to Lucielle Ghatti, who I met in 2012. She's out in Jamaica Queens, raising her beautiful son Milo. Much love to MY GYPSY!!!!!!!, WAY uptown in Harlem. Our energies were too real for each other, so I had to find somewhere else to crash while out here. For that, thank my big homie VK and his son Chance for ONCE AGAIN being there when the chips were down and I had nowhere to stay in the city. It wasn't ugly, but ...just slightly more stress than I banked on. I had plans to visit Chimp1, but the subway is $3 EACH WAY. Money isn't what I need it to be to make the trip.

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That's me and MY STRAY!, Shapeshifter Dre, my 2nd day in the city. Stray Dogs is the new All-NYC MC collective, spearheaded by my man Lou From Paradise (bka Lou the Human). One MC/producer from each of the 5 boroughs. Lou got me reppin Harlem AND The Bronx. I'm not mad at it. I just want the city to get behind us.

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That's Shapeshifter Dre to the far left, Squid Nice in the blue skully and yours truly w/ the pink and black (to the right).

Stray Dogs walk together.

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Bro. NY Halal is like Japan sushi. Was SO glad to get a plate while out here.

I love you, New York City.
I learned A LOT about US on this trrip.

I don't mean to be so psychically "invasive". I just learned from The Great Mom Upstairs that my mind is my greatest weapon. And I wanted to be a New York Cavalier with my mental musket.

Oh.

While I'm here.

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE 2026 NEW YORK KNICKS!!!

I'm around.

Catch me.

You'll know when it's me.

~Enter the Hamilton~

Bold face

I have friends on both sides.

Allies on both sides.

I figured that if I wore AS MUCH PINK as I did growing up in NYC, it would be a shock and sigh of relief to see me in blue.

I ask that my hood homies not think too deep into me wearing THIS MUCH blue.

It’s Sonic, baby!

lol and yeah.

I got my show outfit ready.

Harlem, we shall stand (up).

I just touched down.

Got mad calls to make and texts to respond to.

But NYC…

I have arrived.

#TheChampionshipCity

~Enter the Hamilton~

The pathetic.

I woke up this morning with the urge to CUSS MY MOTHER OUT. How could you leave me RIGHT BEFORE I take off?! How could you be persuaded to subdue me?!! Why were you so strict???!

I suddenly got reminded of all the times where, if I didn’t have or show discipline, I’d be finished. And I *still* lived a rough life. I wanted to be my own dad. I didn’t want my pretty ass, witty ass mom to be Dad. And I was FURIOUS with my dad. How could you be THEEEEE most caring and loving mf, and STILL not be there when I need you?

I can go on forever about him.

Hence the outro to November 10th.

I don’t need to call him a bitch ass nigga. I damn near didn’t MEAN to. I was just selfish… being selfish with Sonic. Sons, if you feel your father is a bitch ass nigga, it will reflect on YOU. Your entire manhood is based on your father’s EXISTENCE. You REFLECT your mother, in your beauty and grace. But that grit? That strength? Pops, all day.

So sorry, mom and dad. I’m just a rebel. Just like BOTH of you. We had good times. The three of us, me and mom, me and dad. We were superpowers, ya know? Dad was a high-powered attorney, mom was a legendary journalist. I was… a Superbaby. Watched by higher ups, respected among my fellow infants.

Or it was all just… pure imagination.

See you on the 10th, mom and dad.

In spirit, of course…

Costume magic.

Maybe this is a freewrite. A poem where concepts and ideas serendipitously connect. It could be a vent, where names are kept/disclosed and thought of with malice. It’s not a love story. Or is it?

I ask myself where I stand with love. Exes, crushes, groupies, strangers, friends… they complete the pentagram, but my failures with each disqualify me from being The GOAT (albeit missing acronyms). This time alone, preparing for the 11/10 show, has helped me come to accept that I am, indeed, a Solitary Witch. I used to delegate society to whosoever should stop by or call. Now, I’m not pressed to talk to anyone. I handle business, but the current situation I’m in doesn’t require me to be business minded. Nevertheless, random neighbors coming to my door asking for stuff is just cause to do whatever it takes to gtfoh.

I enjoy the time to myself. And I know that through it, I am more of an asset to myself and anyone who works with me. Still, what’s a magic trick without an audience? I’m sure drug dealers are amused when they cook up their product. But without users (fiends), all of their amusement means nothing. lol I can finally compare myself to the dealer! Anyhouligan, you can somewhat expect less of me… as you get more of me.

Won’t lie, I’ve been trying to liken my social media presence to one Dr. Dre. Important notices, releases from colleagues, etc. Except it doesn’t work that way. I’m a chatterbox, and I love Love. As soon as I get a notification and it’s an affection-yielding individual:StarChaser, I’m right on it. And SECONDS after I finish, I read between the lines and realize what a mistake I made. Without singling anyone out, often times I’m reached out to by people who want to test the waters. Meaning, see if their allusions would ruffle my feathers. I haven’t let them, lately. But I feel it.

I take my own advice and “roll with the punches” (“Gloves”, suffice it to say it’s an old adage).

I am in pitch black darkness today. I bear the light I wish to see. And those who can be verified, can verify. I’m tired of longing for affection. I’m tired of hyper/overextending myself. I’m tired of it. It’s just hard because I’ve done it for so long. Love still exists within me. I’m just charging myself, every time I want to give it. I still write love songs. I still reach out to my loved “ones”. All I want is to love myself the way I love others.

If you don’t love yourself, how can you expect to love another?

Right?

Left.

Now what?

~Enter the Hamilton~

Femaliens, I believe I called them

at some point in time, in my blogging exploits.

There were FDAliens (hyper-attractive female FDA students), and there were Femaliens (women in general).

Loved equally, but if I got my pinchers on ONE OF ANY, it’s all shut down.

And at one point in my life, I would flood ANY of their inboxes with poetry and CashApp accounts with cash.

It all started in 2012, when I first came home from incarceration. Because of how well I handled myself while locked and earned some key point(er)s in the halfway house, I deemed it necessary to love my SELF more when I got free. It dawned on me that, though I can blame some for chipping away at my inner-security, no one’s going to care if I have years to cry. No one, from friends to family to foe.

They won’t care, because I’ve survived it all.

And NO WOMAN WANTS A CRYING MAN.

Fuck all that “men cry in the dark” bullshit.

So, here I am.

Reintroducing women (and my women) to my #worldatlarge.

And trying to save men from #theworldatlarge.

The truth is too sensitive to share.

I’ll just pray for you all.

Maybe my life will make room for a Femalien.

Maybe even… an FDAlien!

Or just an angel at my table.

To play a player.

I’m not a player. I just have A LOT of female friends. At least I did at some point. Either things got too hot between us, I jumped the gun or they had someone all along. So that’s why I’m not in a rush to reach out. I take responsibility for it all. Well, some of my favorite ladies (peace to DOOM) are reaching out about the show. As hyped as I am about it, it presents an opportunity for me…

To prove to myself that I am worthy of the chase.

The only name I’m going to mention is Simone Porter. The last we spoke, she was planning on coming to the show. Three cheers for rekindling lost love, but she hurt me DEEPLY (broke up w me at the XXL Freshman cover shoot). I’m not seeking revenge, but I’m not trying to curve everyone (INCLUDING and ESPECIALLY Halo) for a “memorable” night with someone who had no reason to leave my world to begin with.

A few FDAliens are talking about coming through. I’m super weak for them, so there’s that. But I want to floss my new discipline. It’s been almost 3 years since I last had sex, and I’m in no rush to cypher my energy. I built it all up. Watch me erupt ON STAGE, *ABOUT*… well, ladies who are no longer in my life.

My composure is breaking as I write.

I’m looking forward to this show. No clue what’s happening after the show. I might wanna be alone, I might roll w H2 and Kesed, might roll w Bash to Harlem… Sciryl’s not in town, so my evening isn’t spoken for. Sha could roll… who knows, man.

I just know that…

“I ain’t a player, I just crush a lot; literally. My high school crush was hot!”

-Charles Hamilton, “Boy Who Cried Wolf”