Here’s the thing. The truth of the matter. You can’t always be politically correct or measured with your words. So lemme just say it!
Lawd. I need to get the fuck outta here. Away from family and back to Music. Back to things that energize me and dammit, I need some male energy to spark off on. Nothing serious. No life changing conversation. I need to laugh and look at something beautiful as the sun rises and sets. And drink whiskey and sing. And be in studio. Around people. Lots of them. Maybe…wake up with a hangover.
The thing about being home is this (grief aside) – it is a physical and emotional detox. I am way too far at the end of the spectrum right now. Way too monk and nun like in my energy. Forever contemplating the nature of the universe, the gods and our place in it.
I need some fun or else I am gonna….strangely enough….write music where I end up killing off many, many, many people. I could release an entire album just with murder ballads. Oh, that album already has a name: I Don’t Think I Can Handle a Knife Right Now.
I need to laugh, fuck, drink, dance and laugh some more. And perhaps sleep…to regain my balance.
Ps…The Base was a hip hop club we frequented back in the day. Where the coolest gifts were mixtapes or vinyl. And the DJ’s became the High Magicians they always were as the music blasted in our ears .Fuckin. Bliss.