i wish i was more active on here. i used to be active everyday. it didn’t feel like a chore to write. and recently, i’ve felt like i’ve been limiting myself, and i don’t know how to stop. i just wanna press go, but i don’t think i’ll have control once i start. i was listening to music earlier, and everything felt so good. it was the kind of music that limited the amount of drums and bass drops. i could only hear the singer’s voice. his perspective. his writing. his pain. his love. his voice. i wonder if people listen to me like that. i was getting lost in his words — only to catch up just in time to get lost again. i can’t keep up. is there anymore pain left in my voice? i don’t know. i released all my pain not long after starting this blog. writing pretty much saved me. i wonder if now i can start writing from other people’s perspective. what if i started writing about stories of me. other people’s stories. ones where i left a bad impression versus ones where i set people free.
i flew back home today. on my drive home, khalid’s new song, vertigo, came on. i cried my eyes out. literally. you ever hear something so therapeutic your first reaction is to cry? i love crying though — as weird as that sounds. most of the time i’m inspired when i cry. and crying also reminds me that i’m only human, which is something i tend to forget often. remember to breathe. remember to stay kind. remember to love today. one of the worst things i can think of happening to me is being misunderstood. right now, i don’t know if i feel misunderstood or a little lost. maybe both. for me, it’s a constant battle of feeling lost. i like to think sometimes i’ve figured it out — that is until i realized i definitely don’t. it feels weird to so openly express my truths only to be mistaken for fake. i almost feel guilty for trying to figure it out and not knowing exactly where i’m gonna end up. because it seems like everybody whose “got it together” has really got it together. they never seem to make a mistake or slip up. sometimes i’m discouraged because i sit back and wonder how people are getting over on others by living their lies and not their truths.
there is one thing i will never be. i will never fit into this character that society wants me to be. when did poetry become a business venture? when did acting become so dry? when did poetry become a plot to prey on the broken? and when did the consumer become so . . . easy to consume? do not get me wrong here when i say this. i love r.h. sin, and he has helped me in situations i had no clue how to overcome, but how did we let him drop over six books in a year about to move on from shitty men? it’s all the same content so tell me why we continue to feed into it? we have gotta start questioning and challenging our favorite artists. we gotta stop letting them tell us what we’re doing wrong. they will not get one over on us. not anymore. i respect the hustle but art, poetry, music should all be more than just a “hustle”. you gotta have it in your heart to make me believe what you’ve created. in vertigo, khalid said, “i wish i was more outspoken // but the words are out of reach” and those few words made me believe something. i don’t think i’ve found a song recently that just made me sit down and think. or cry. or both. in 2019, i want to see more artists take their time. make me feel something. show me what you’ve been through by your art, not by your words. keep me on my tip toes just long enough to realize the answers have been here all along. not to knock over anyone’s bread and butter but we have to start demanding more. we cannot continue to be satisfied with ordinary art that has no thought behind it. to me, art has always been created from the soul. now a days, we’re only receiving the bare minimum. stop letting some people out here fool you — they’re only in it for fame and money. truth is truth. fake is fake. and eventually, it will all come to light.