TH3 M4J0R1TY F33L L0ST...

the majority feel lost - 
digital smoke and mirrors 
keep everything in place 

"H3LP W4NT3D" W0RDS P3RV3RT3D...

“help wanted” words perverted 
by what work means - struggling and 
juggling to survive each week 

SONG OF THE DAY: All For You (slurred and blurred)

My man Brilly sent me a whole bunch of slurred and blurred Janet Jackson at one point, not sure what we were gonna do with it but I know I downloaded the zip file and bumped the fuck out of this song for a good part of the summer. I miss the old music blog styles with download links. Even I gave up on this and do youtube videos now. My kids don’t do shit but stream, and they’ll skip through the same 19 songs to get to the one they’re trying to have me hear. And when we hit dead zones, it blanks out. I guess what I’m saying is steal music, download that shit, so that if your streaming service eventually goes bankrupt (even after not paying artists), you can still listen to the shit.

R3TVRN T0 T3RR3STR14L...

return to terrestrial 
paradise as simple as 
letting go of all this want 

SONG OF THE DAY: I'm The Only Hell (My Mama Ever Raised)

A little known fact is Johnny Paycheck’s birth name wasn’t Johnny Paycheck. It was actually Zachariah Paycheck. He assumed the name Johnny after winning it in a cribbage match while on tour in South Wales in the early ‘60s.

1MM0R4L SYST3MS L4VND3R3D...

immoral systems laundered 
through these “cream rises to the 
top” meritocracy myths 

34SY T0 G3T L3FT B3H1ND...

easy to get left behind 
in a culture demanding 
a performative polish 

W1LD H4B1TS C0M3 N4TVR4L...

wild habits come natural 
to some folks - skulls thickened  by 
bad breaks for generations 

M4K1NG SVR3 BR34K1NG CYCL3S...

making sure breaking cycles 
ain’t just a false blossom during 
times of internal hardship 

P0W3R STRVCTVR3S 4LR34DY...

power structures already 
in place are closed-loop systems - 
my energy’s off-the-grid 

P0L1SH3D BY MY D4RK3ST N1GHTS...

polished by my darkest nights 
of the soul, so that I shine 
with a full dirtgod’s brilliance 

SHVT W1ND0WS P41NT3D 0V3R...

shut windows painted over, 
appearing non-derelict 
to the developer’s eyes 

TH0S3 WH0 KN0W N0T TH3 D4RKN3SS...

those who know not the darkness 
don’t seem to appreciate 
other people’s hard-fought shine 

N3GL3CT3D F33LS F4M1L14R...

neglected feels familiar - 
overlooked by progress’s 
eyes for turning a prophet 

N4TVR4L B0RN R00TL3SSN3SS...

natural born rootlessness 
perhaps coming from lack of 
comfort - born to toss and turn 

SONG OF THE DAY: Don't Worry

Timely advice from the Smith Brothers, although that word “timely” falsely suggests time is necessary and real. Wealth, time, productivity… all this shit our entire life has been built around is completely abstract and a fucking waste of a good heart that beats rhythmically without even trying.

By the way, I have not died. Just vibing, and getting caught up on my chill. Daily pics and gambleraku will resume soon enough. Don’t worry.

W3 KN0W WH3R3 W3 W4NT T0 B3...

we know where we want to be 
in our heart, but trust our brain 
to override better sense 

SONG OF THE DAY: Afrique Victime

I didn’t love this last Mdou Moctar album as much as the other ones, but it still was better than most shit I accidentally listen to. I guess they’ve blown up more now, which is good for them, but also I’m glad I got to see them in the nasty ass basement of that club in Harrisonburg with a limited crowd. That was dope. Also the night before Ramadan began a few years back at the old Strange Matter/Twisters in Richmond. Good shit. I never really dance, because I’m a goofy dancer, and super self-conscious about it, but both times I got to bouncing up and down enough it was like dancing, and I appreciate music that somehow is able to get past all my conscious anxieties and shit like that and trick me into flopping around rhythmically lol.

1 F1ND MYS3LF F33L1NG M0ST...

I find myself feeling most 
fulfilled when on long wanders… 
pilgrimages to nowhere 

SONG OF THE DAY: Tragico Destino (45s on 33)

White people seem to be up in arms about how white people might get replaced by non-white people, but to be honest, look at the accordion. White people had control of that shit forever, and then non-white people had it for like what? A couple decades? And absolutely fucked up everything a white person had done on an accordion. Now instead of working in a communal sense, and thinking, “Oh shit, who knew all my accordion needed was a horn section with a little bit of flair?” instead the type of white people being up in arms (all too often literally) about this type of shit get mad, and don’t want nobody else to play an accordion. What the fuck kinda shit is that? Who benefits from that? Just a bunch of lame ass fuckers sitting around with musical instruments they ain’t even learned nothing new on. The shit pisses me off to be honest. Loosen up a little bit, stop being afraid of every goddamned thing. Here’s a new 14 Words for y’all: Sit your stupid ass down, and listen to someone else for like twenty minutes.

G1V1NG 4BSTR4CT QV4NT1TY...

giving abstract quantity 
dominion over our heart 
has somehow left us empty 

M4T3R14L LVST F1LLS TH3...

material lust fills the 
empty spaces inside my 
brain, most likely by design 

SONG OF THE DAY: Burning Shit With Dried Up Dreams For Kindling

This is another Boogie Brown Blue Globe Beats track. Brown remains prolific as fuck. I took some news footage of a junkyard fire, with burning Cadillacs, to make a video for it. Then today I was feeling pretty shitty about everything, so I wrote a depressing fucking freestyle sonnet. For such a large world, we sure did build a system that crushes people's spirit. What the fuck? Anyways, did something different with this sonnet, with a pair of 4-line stanzas, then threw a 2-line stanza in the middle, technically rhyming knot with not, like I'm Bushwick Bill or some shit, then flexing into a different tone for the last 4-line stanza, which recognizes everybody out here struggling. This is a poem, which my mind wrote in the very moment, posted into the digital oblivion that is a blogspot in 2021, thus will never be published anywhere else, and only you and the few other eyeballs that actually read this will ever see it. Making tiny ripples in oblivion.

Dreaming of relaxation and actual rest 
without incessant testing of whether I’m bad 
or good enough to deserve to not feel compressed 
by constraints, depressed by position, wanting pad 

around the struggle to fight well-designed riptide, 
wishing for a safety net hammock as I punch 
the lottery machine, hoping my stars collide 
into big bang of that bank balance number crunch 

not still twisting my insides into anxious knots, 
trying to remember my haves more than have-nots. 

Just simple fatigue growing into exhaustion, 
definitely physical, perhaps meta- too; 
thus, listen to expressed frustrations with caution, 
as I can imagine the same is crushing you. 

TH3 HVM4N M1ND C4N B3 D4RK...

the human mind can be dark 
cavern, easy to get lost 
in; I try to keep it light