This forthcoming body of work may amount to absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it may only benefit the one who is creating it; however, I have a slim degree of faith that this confession will inevitably aid the individual. I was once, and may still be, an individual but in asking these questions, I hope to be less man and more self. These words are part of an expression, a cry from the depths of an ever-expanding mind. Questions have struck like falling meteors-some ancient and some modern-and in writing them down, I plan to seek an understanding, or at least be led towards one. This is an expression of my self, a being not yet fully blossomed, the sprouts of a broken seed who has lived within the damp darkness of ignorance. I write this as my eyes adjust to the light for the first time, leaving the moist cavern behind me. In my musings, I have uncovered a few truths that may apply to all men and women, or solely to me. I cannot tell the reader, if there is any, what they should do with this information; yet I wish these words will aid when it is time for them to form their own questions. Such is the nature of the man, the being I aspire to become. Within all of us, we have the tool to define ourselves, craft our nature, and differentiate between those who surround us. We are divisive creatures, yet we have no foundations of our own, save for the ones society has purposefully assigned to us. If you are reading this then I challenge you to use your mind, always. It is the gift that God has bestowed upon us, and it will serve as the greatest source of truth, even in the darkest of days.

At the first of the month, for the next year, I am going to post essays that I have written in my personal journal. These topics will range from existential philosophy, my walk with God, liberation, creativity, and other thoughts that enter my mind throughout the days. I hope that my ramblings will be able to aid whoever decides to read them, the same way that I was aided when these words were first written.


Naked she lays,

Wrapped in heavenly cotton

A smile

Bearing one thousand pearls

Each fashioned for her

Milk for skin

Pouring out of a golden jug

Black irises and shades of lilac

Invoke in me

Unsolved mysteries,

Space exploration, and


Her soul is stitched with angel feathers

and the laughter of children,

with breasts kissed by moonlight

lined with the same shade of black

As my own.

When I gaze at her

I fail to express

My feelings

But instead choose

To bear it all

With one simple


Seven Stools.

The sting of aged whiskey brought raging fire to his hairless cheeks, an empty glass now resting on the edge of the counter. Above the seating section was a row of televisions, all playing the same weather programming save for the one in the far left corner, underneath the neon sign. The restaurant was dimly lit and nearly all of the chairs had been positioned on top of the stable chairs, dusty pads remained in the air as the floor below had been swept twice. Only seven stools remained vacant at the bar counter, and he was occupying one of them. With enough gel in his hair to sculpt a statue, he placed his plastic card in the hand of the bartender and ordered a pint of the draft. What was he doing here exactly? He thought to himself as the chilled liquid coated his nicotine stained tonsils. As he placed the cup down, the bell above the door chimed and a young fellow, with smoky red eyes, approached the bar. Before the boy, who smelled of ash and cinnamon, readjusted his seat, the gentleman greeted him with an overly gleeful smile. “What brings you to a bar tonight? Don’t have anybody to spend it with?” he comically asked.

“The same thing that brings me to a bar each time, to drink,” the boy sarcastically responded. It was clear that he was in no position to talk, but the man believed otherwise. He twisted the band upon his finger, a large silver nugget, embedded with red gems, a class ring given to him upon graduation.

Continue reading Seven Stools.

Thirty Tapes

At the beginning of 2016, I told my best friend that this would be the best year for music we’ve seen in years. As this rollercoaster comes to a close, I can say, despite all the other nonsense that happened this year, good music saved all of us. I can’t stress the importance of synchronized sound and silence in our lives; but I will attempt to with this list. Below are thirty albums that made their way into my life this year, and healed/helped in an unique manner. I’m going to avoid big name ones such as TLOP, Starboy, Birds in the Trap etc., because you’ll probably read enough reviews about them. Instead, I plan to focus on artist and names you may or may have never heard about, previously before this list. Without further ado, I give you my Top Thirty Tapes of 2016 (in no particular order).

Also, below the list a playlist (Spotify) with one song from each of the albums. Enjoy. 

Princess – Abra

  • A sexually-charged disco wonderland courtesy of the first lady of Awful Records.

House of Diamonds – Angelo Mota

  • Poetry in real time sprinkled over fresh beats.

The Altar – BANKS

  • A self-expression of darkness and the hope that resides within it.

Freetown Sound – Blood Orange

  • The sounds of New York City  during the summer.

22, A Million – Bon Iver

  • The croons of a man living in harmony with nature.

CDW – Charlotte Day Wilson

  • The passionate voice of a fresh face coming up for air. 

“Awaken, My Love!” – Childish Gambino

  • Modern existential funk.

*Pilgrim’s Paradise – Daniel Caesar

  • *This album actually came out in ’15 but it was so good that it deserved an honorary spot on this list.

The Getaway – Red Hot Chili Peppers

  • Legendary Rock & Roll. Nuff said

Blonde – Frank Ocean

  • Love letters  written on a tab.

Ology – Gallant

  • Best Tape of 2016.

Energia – J Balvin

  • Dat fuego reggaeton.

The Colour In Anything  – James Blake

  • Mechanized sonnets written by lost astronauts.

It Is. – JMSN

  • The jazz that you’ve been missing.

Witchcraft – Lord Narf

  • Chants and hexes from Awful Records’ Sorceress.

The Divine Feminine – Mac Miller

  • Sexy bubblegum beats and romantic raps.

Game of Thrones Season 6 – Ramin Djawdi

  • The Medieval Apocalypse.

Westworld Soundtrack – Ramin Djawdi

  • The REM recordings of robotic dreams.

Secrets – Rendzevous At Two

  • The musings of millenial lovers.

Monday – StarRo

  • A fantastic smattering of Soundcloud legends

Thierry Disko – Sunni Colon

  • Miami Vice in the morning.

(m)edian – Ta-Ku & Waifa

  • Five songs to help you fall in love.

There’s Alot Going On – Vic Mensa

  • The private confession of a pro-black artist.

The Everlasting Wave – Xavier Omar

  • That “you don’t know nothing about this” R&B

Chapters – Yuna

  • A storybook with pop-up emotions.

*Good to Love – FKA Twigs

  • Only a single, but well worth it.

I’m a Piece of Shit – Father

  • American Grime.

Reflections in Real Time – Kilo Kish

  • Timeless thoughts translated over tunes.

Majid Jordan – Majid Jordan

  • The first mixtape you sent to your first girlfriend.

Passion, Pain & Demon Slayin – Kid Cudi





Sal y Viento

Despierta mi corazon en la arena

En el mismo lugar que te conoci

Por debajo de las palmas borrachas

Hojas bailando como nuestras almas se tocan

Por primera vez

Te siento en el viento

Tu pelo

Suave como las primeras gotas de lluvia

Que caen durante la puesta de sol

Echo de menos las olas

Porque ahi es el lugar donde te ame

Contando las estrellas en nuestra idioma materna

Mientras que nuestros cuerpos prueban libertad

Estaba desnudo y expuesto

Con la esperanza de que tu verias

Como una parte

De mi,

Para siempre.