In other words, my beloved falsetto is gone.
The high notes.
I noticed it dwindling when I went to visit Drew. In fact, it was going away when Rivera came to visit. Drew got me some specialized cough drops, and I was able to save my voice for at least another 2 or so projects.
Yes, I’ve been chain smoking… to the thought of returning back to NYC and putting on a show. I also been sitting in my air-conditioned apartment, recording like manic. I was told in 2022 by a doctor to STOP RECORDING AND LET MY VOICE REST. That one day, whatever I love about my voice will be gone. The shit about it is, my medical coverage doesn’t permit me to get the spray I need for my throat.
It is Smoker’s Cough, but my case is pretty prolonged.
“Maybe I’m a slave to Republicans, but baby I’m a slave to your love again…”
-Charles Hamilton, “Catch Me Next Week”
I can make it clear, or I can be ambiguous. It’s like this… I picked up a habit out of desperation, and now I’m desperate to kick the habit.
Text me, if you need to talk to me.
I’m only expecting my Dad, my caseworker and Porter to call me today.
I really don’t wanna let down my team.
And hey!
This could be a good thing! I find that my voice can be rather Bugs Bunny-levels of irritating. Like a preppy Westside Gunn, in the tone (respectfully). This could be a proper reintroduction.
Whatever Tomorrow brings, I’ll be there.
-so mote it be
