aesthetics of contemporary music

lyrics in solitude is mere poetry.
for without the company of instrumentals we are composed to enjoy misery.


i'd give my all for love...harmony.

pre application

habla loca

the truth is simply is matter of fact.

in the most fortunate cases these matters are simply understood. adversity lingers over the many, for only few are as fortunate as kings.

to live as the common and know as the kings is a quality only held by an elite few, misguided by the fates of life. fate employs these kings to guide the most common in efforts to higher understanding.

with matters of fact, only those who are guided by those with true understanding hold any chance of attainment of happiness.

if only there were true kings living among us...

flashlights and truths

sometimes when i'm alone i pretend i am skinny.

the rate of conception at which newer/better me's are created doubles daily, at least that's what it feels like in my head. the concept of the "Self" does not exist outside of perception; one can only imagine the self within a conception of the self.

yesterday i wore a blue shirt, or a red shirt, or a green shirt, or, if i was skinnier, possibly no shirt. my face was flawless, free of imperfections. my posture just perfect. my jeans: new with that "i wore these yesterday maybe" facade. the body constantly in action. the self constantly in action, within a perception. whether it be a matter of fact or fiction, the self exists both mentally and physically within a perception.

of course, i'd never pretend to be fat, for that would be nonsense.

worth the wait

the insanely relevant mind of a writer wrote to the world with words of wisdom. as knowledge is power, power is knowing.

Shout out to Frank Ocean
Nostalgi/ultra

check it out...download below.

street fighter strawberry swing novacane we all try bitches talkin' songs for women lovecrimes golden eye there will be tears swim good dust american weeding soluld calibur nature feels

trees gone bad

the feeling of familiarity sparks during times like this. as the rain pours down onto arms awaiting misery, the thought of curiosity is begged..."am I putting myself in the same situation again?"

with new love comes the unbalancing of a life. my life. I feel the discomfort of naivety. in all my reflection I learn only the simple things; mostly remembering dates and times. if I ever wrote a love song it would consist of lessons not learned and feelings not spoken for. if only I were smarter.

if perfection were a trait carried by few, this logic would rationale my love.
but perfection is a trait carried by none, and it is for this reason i feel like I've been here before.

I want for acceptance.
I fear that it may be too late. I want to go home.

lets play house

he who claims victory at times of need require only the forgiveness of he who dare not claim.

responding to logic, I withhold previous information awaiting for your confession.

and the winner is...