The Weekend

February 6, 2020


“Never need a bitch, I’m what a bitch needs.”
       
Called Quincy Jones and they had Secret Garden as his hold music.
Spent the entire day with Don’t Bother. Not sure how I feel about him just yet. I can tell he is locked inside of his own insecurities but he’s going to have to let me in somehow if he wants to be so playful. Shit doesn’t make any sense.

I do know for one thing. He won’t find anything like me in LA.

I also feel like stepping away for a second. Giving him some space to breathe. I’m overwhelming. Maybe that is the young shit that Tikal talks about. How I just turn into a teenager when it’s actually time to show love. How do you love everyone but only show your love to few? How do you find balance in opening yourself to others? I consider myself to be a flower. Opening and closing with the seasons. Dying at times then growing new buds like skin. I die so many times and keep getting born again. The only thing that has stayed consistent is the music. It has lived throughout these cycles to remind me that I am truly still alive in this body. The soul is omnipresent but the body is new. New skin. New blood. New ideas that orbit like a galaxy and all I’m trying to do is see every planet. Feel every astroid hit the back of my head like a big mistake. Fly so free that it feels like there is no ground below me. No gravity to hold me. So free that I embody the word and others learn to break free by watching me.