Bad $hape - Excellent Form
It is September 5th, 2019 and I am on a plane to London, England. Sitting in the middle seat of the middle-row, listening to four year old beats in my headphones; I’m asking myself what I bought them for. What was I doing here? I could hardly make ends meet let alone afford this impromptu flight across the ocean. Spending money I don’t yet have and missing out on the hours needed to pay it back. I miss my partner but I’m grateful for the space. I’m thinking about the wretched failure of the previous year, the first of many post-college reality checks.
It is September 4th, 2021 and I’m in my brand new home-studio. Reflecting for the first time in over a year and realising that it had truly been about 5. The weight of lost time heaves on my shoulders. Every moment sweeps urgent and minutes linger on longer than welcomed. The writing helps quell the anxiety momentarily. Loud music and smoke surround me with enough stimuli to semi-settle down, thoughts swirl endless. I’m in a position I’ve dreamed of and dreaded since I could remember. Nausea and hell knocking constantly bent on permeating every single premise.
It is early September 7th, 2018 and I’m onboard a semi-crowded Amtrak en route back to New York exhausted from an eventful week in Toronto. In the studio amongst friends and acquaintances, earlier nudges that I may want to try my hand at recording audio tug forcefully. Therapeutic ass experience. Suddenly there are tears in my eyes as I look down at my phone screen. Devastating news breaks about one of my favourite artists and I’m broken up. The ominous void to be acknowledged and mourned over for months to come. The harshness of life startles me to jump into the abyss.
Still falling. I’ve been attempting to write about my travels and travails for quite some time now. Through mountains of debt and a pool of heartbreak and shattered glass shards from a broken heart-shaped ashtray, this is as far as I’ve gotten. This is how life works I’m told. It could be worse. I became so damn lost that I found hope.
One thing for sure, I still have no idea when “it” all happened. One minute I’m a 14yr old Trini boy in Florida innocently figuring out his first impression of the rap they keep off the radio - the next, well, I don’t even know! Bright-eyed and dumb as rockstars the whole time. Brimming with confidence the same way hot-air balloons are powered. Saint-certain that I could rearrange the landscape of wherever my sight landed. Terrible personas were tried on and way too many stuck. Sex-icon student/athlete with something to prove. Yuck. I still gag at all the parties I went to just to brood. Self-centered statements and plaid. Ew. These days I owe myself a reckoning with self-check-in but sharing this self-examination should satisfy for now.
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It is May 20th, 2014 and I am tasting my first tab of acid. The sound of sirens cascade all around me. I feel myself firmly losing grip. It is September 27th 2021 and I just released the first single off of my upcoming project.
