in the midst of every mo_ _nt

is me

momentos

dates and names are fictitious, not they are. lyrics and rants are for entertainment purposes only,

are they not?

- YODA CAN -

disclaimer

JAZZ ON MY TONGUE

i’m the trash-picking customer ass-kissingcook in a jazz kitchen cooking till the brass sectionbegins their last session fueled by ambitionto mimic moves of a masterfinger-pickers hand position i’m out of practice and the bands viscousbackground sounds of crashing dishes my bad, it’s me dragging britchesi hold pot tops to my ear lobesto hear loads of those rim shotsas i drop garlic in the pot then relish in the embellished sounds coming from under umbrellascast over the saxophonist forecast said bad storms would pass over uslisten to that bass overture spoken word with a touch of jazz on my tonguepast rehearsals crashed where legends said i could be the one should i entertain name drop to play the gameor listen when the bands back on the one

coroi was backstage or in the basementwith a bass man practicing a violin and a violet penwere my 1st two instruments now my pen is way more violentless silent, no longer violetand still opening eyelids sucks that i no longer play the violin

kitchen clues cueing me to movejazzed out in the groove the past hours in the bluessimple kit, with a simple kickwhen the cymbals hitthe sentiments of the rhythm is“snap to this”i leave the kitchen now we’re in same room“how you feeling?”(fine) i feel the same too“let your hands go” banjo’s going dance. stress-flowing in the spirit of the momentsharp harmonics of the harpstart warming up the heartparting ways with your seatthe rooms humidity removes humility or you must have happy feeteither way we’re dancinghappily to the beatstraight hair curls rapidly due to heatplease tell me who’s tapping on the keys?freddie this has me reminiscingwhat a wicked endingthis fruit is so sweet2,3,4 ... 5,6,7,8 ... go

coroi was backstage or in the basementwith a bass man practicing a violin and a violet penwere my 1st two instruments now my pen is way more violentless silent, no longer violetand still opening eyelids sucks that i no longer play the violin

the violin was the 1st instrument i was taught how to play. and i know why i stopped playing the violin and why i put down many other instruments ...frustration.

something within me disconnected. maybe it was all too cerebral. my fingers, my hands and my body no longer connected to the notes and chords as they had before. before the violin, i could play by ear. this all stopped the moment i agreed to learn how to read music.

jazz was not played much in the homes where i lived. i heard funk, house, disco and more funk. i have always been a wonderer who wandered and it is for this reason i know of jazz.

there was a time when i played in a marching band (percussion section) solely to linger around the rehearsal room when the jazz bands practiced.

by the time i joined the marching band, my violin skills had long since dissipated and an entirely different music-muscle had developed (and continues to strengthen to this day).

the various jazz trios and quartets openly invited me to join them as i wrote lyrics like an instrument similar to what rakim infused into the sound of rap. soon-thereafter, i quit the marching band.

even before jazz band, i didn’t know that i was in the presence of greatness until it was pointed out to me almost 20 years later. michael’s dad is buddy guy.

michael and i randomly reconnected in atlanta although we never spoke about my music. we spoke more on personal accounts with kanye, mikkey, shawna, luda, lil kim and others.

i wonder if michael remembers how much i heard his father play early on. before i was reminded, i would not have said that the blues played a part in my musical molding ... but it did.

should i name drop to play the game? should i say names of everyone famous that i have held an artistic forum with? What does that do? ive been so anxious (genuwine), to share how my collaboration with justin bieber on pink diamond came to be. at the time, out of respect for the producer, his career and his vision, i kept the narrative we agreed upon. i have sat in on sessions, invited and non-invited, though always welcomed, and witnessed legends at their most vulnerable moments; rehearsals. it didn’t dawn on me, until quite recently, how impressionable jazz & blues have been to me.

jazz is more of a language than it is a music-style. jazz on my tongue is a serenade of honor and appreciation for the jazz and blues musicians who opened to the door and chords for me to learn, listen and further develop my craft of words.

this is me walking through moments in time with a touch of jazz, spoken word and blues in my heart.

01 jazz on my tongue

AN ADDICTIVE PRICK

look at how i dolaid back chilling laughing at my rivalsi’ve been gone for a long timethis is the arrival call it the return of your idolhell i must be your idol cuz when your thoughts run idle the buzz becomes what i do or didi’m too unpredictable to predictthis is as addictive as it getsan addiction to a prickfrom a rose, who rose up through a slit of a crack in a brickis it the pain from the prick trickling of the bloodor scent from above that keeps you coming back?

i’m addictive and sometimes i get addicted to your addiction

i’m intelligent and charming and need nothing from you so this is quite disarming after long conversations discussing all thingsfirewalls drop all alarmings plus my voice is quite warmingmoving belts and bras to beds and floors without a single warningquick wits are quick to flip flirts into sex and the next day you’re addicted to this dicki’m addictivei’m your addictionreal life non-fictioniconic with the writtenconstant contradictionsi’m addicted to your addiction

i’m addictive i’m your addictioni’m an enigmai’m your elixirafter one hitafter one listenhigh! i’m in your systemnow is my addictioni’m addicted i’m addictivei’m your addiction

i remember the first time that i was called addictive. and i didn’t understand what it meant in that moment because she used the word seductive. but if i replaced it with what addictive, addiction means, i mean, hell, i am addictive and i get it now.

lynette was the first woman to call me temptation. after hearing this, i explored past iterations of this feeling and the situations surrounding them. i thought of current moments and probable situational outcomes.

today a businessman told me that i was intoxicating and how clear it is for him to see that i am the reason he came to costa rica. he was amused by the boundless boundaries of my freedom. until we met, he could not see freedom without money. our last conversation left this city-boy wondering which seeds to plant on his plethora of undeveloped properties around the world.

i’m aware that my inability to answer a vague question with a specific response, or my general aloofness to people, creates a bubble of curiosity.

i am genuinely interested in hearing what others have to say. this sincerity coupled with my intelligence renders me a non-threat to people who have ever had their opinion, idea, hope, dream or goal scoffed at. add that my voice is soothing... and that i am a spontaneous creature... and now you have all key ingredients for the perfect elixir.

i am addicted to learning, testing and creating. duke and dawitch consistently pushed their creative capacities with and around me. we sharpened each other.

larry would say that i was the “ace of all trades and master of none.” this is because i taught myself, or learned, anything that came to mind. (this is what made duke and i such a powerful tandem.) i would study it, critique it, reverse engineer it and whatever else it took to become proficient at the craft of my choosing.

there are but a few things one can master. mastering a craft requires time. i chose to master human sounds and rhythms (hsr). the manipulation,

modification and manifestation of hsr continues to present wonders in my life.

my addiction to a woman, addicted to me, took us on a ride that will stand as a redefining moment in my life. i ignored so many addictive cues. i was truly addicted to her, to us, to me and the combination in-between to a fault.

i never wanted a woman more than i had the dwarf. an unusual and unfamiliar feeling as i never wanted a woman until this moment in my life.

i screamed this aloud to her for the first time at kayas place after she misinterpreted a line from jasmine referencing exotic dancing as her hustle; and skimmed messages sent from jenny. [“i didn’t get it, text out of context. i’m guilty, no contest? (oh)”]

i was ready to cut my addiction though not my connection to the dwarf. i sat in the room, in front of our suitcases, and questioned, “how would you like to split our things up?” she was not expecting my inquiry. she stated that she wasn’t ready to leave. in silence, we sat in puddles of humidity and tears.

i later shared with the dwarf how i had no wants, needs or desires until i met her. recalling this feeling is quite powerful because in essence i was still untamed before meeting her. something was abrew. i could not see what was going on inside of me until my addiction was no longer fed.

separation from my addiction allowed my roots to rejuvenate. i had lost a piece of myself since leaving the material world abruptly. i faded into a numbing abyss during my creation of #thecanjam, #mckm and the subsequent artistic collaborations.

all things are forever changing,some things forever change you.

02 an addictive prick

MANY MINI MOMENTS

i’ve neglected mini moments while in the midst of many moments this is an in-the-moment momento me making a moment to digest through the effects & cause adjust and perfector eject all

it’s as if i was tossed off a train tumbled... barely caught my brainto turn and hear jagger scream:“are you fucking insane?”that’s fucking insane!!!what’s in my fucking brain?i’m recording a strain of strange sayings and beings having séances non-stop atop my membrane since...hold the beat (oh!)

coro x2

this is that bounce that makes me feel gooddat tinga ting tingringing thru my headthis is that all night longmy feel so right songmy crazy thoughts get goingmy crazy thoughts get gone

i’ve neglected mini moments while in the midst of many moments this is an in-the-moment momento me making a moment to digest through the effects & cause adjust and perfect or eject all

it’s as if i’ve been labeled a villainby those once close and so into our feelingno problem with the positionplease, for my next auditionbefore a role is given just let me know ... i’ll play alongim the eternal antagonist tagging turmoil whilst wrapping thisgifted prose with classic kicks my role quid pro quo (oh!)

there are many, whole & separate, entities that exist within me. this statement is visually depicted very well in a film titled “split.”

a reassessment of my actions, confirmed that “my better half” writes me notes to use as triggers out. whether written in songs, poems or journal entries, i have been able to keep a hold of reality through all the lives, lies and lines crossed in my life.

there are writings of mine that i’ve read and i do not recall the moment or details being shared. “i” am aware that it happened however, in a sense, i was not there. writing momentos to my-selves has aided in my digestion of this ever-developing realization. going as deep into my characterizations, for the sake of sharing an encompassing moral tale, has effected my beings.

in these moments, nati would give me some cacao and demand i go jump in the ocean. jerry would give me a bag of mangosteen, 4 pipas, and suggest we walk thru the bush. dawitch would somehow always find a way to be present with me; and with her my beings never strayed too far.

dawitch told me to be careful with what i ask for or take from people. in the same conversation she stated that “sometimes it is difficult to say no to you.” i reflected on her statement for some time. and while dawitch is the greatest catalyst to my souls-journey these past 4 years, in addition to a life-partner words will forever fail to describe, my addiction would overtake my rationale.

upon returning to costa rica with a pug and the dwarf, in less than 3 months, i found myself in the midst of an emotional whirlwind that would have consumed me had it not been for notes i left myself, chats with kebs, “oms” with nati and time.

a message from somedude, after a discussion with the dwarf, had me wondering what narrative this sleep, food, family, and good-weed deprived woman shared upon her return.

not only had i neglected to see how i put her in harms way with an introduction to serena...

i put her in harms way because i didn’t have the awareness to expose the addictive bubble we had developed.

i was still guarding a piece of me. i thought i was prepared to open up to her and share everything. i thought i was ready to get started with a new chapter in life with the dwarf and a pug in the caribe. i was not ready to be honest with my-selves.

the dwarf took a trip to san jose to visit blue’s family. she asked if i wanted to go. i told her that i was not invited by blue and would not invite myself. i told her that something was awry with blue that i could not yet pinpoint it. after returning, the dwarf later told me that blue’s family was not in cr. this should have been a flag.

i struggle with defining the feeling i had those 40+ hours that we were not together. was it my addiction to her or my concern for her that kept her in my thoughts? this was the 1st time i had not needed any space from a woman. in stockholm i shared this and she asked, “are you saying that you’re tired of me?” in my odd-way i said, ”i adore my time with you.”

upon returning from san jose, the dwarf said there were too many lies, stories lines and whispers in her ear. with a look of disgust she said “and kebs’s wife, how could you?” the dwarf told me she had booked a flight to leave cr in less than 72 hours.

via skype, and unprompted, blue shared his observation of her state, the questions she asked him and denied he had any input into the current situation of her leaving. he said, “it seems like you really love that woman, if you need a ticket, I will help you reach her.”

my thoughts ran wild. emotions i never had erupted. my addiction was about to taste withdrawal.

it was time.it was only a matter of time. it is only a matter of time... i robbed banks based on the principles and injustices of the financial system. blue shared some results from a private investigation by dustin. deep in the search were multi-million dollar properties that

03 many mini moments

intrigued blue. with the bulk of the funds from the banks, i donated homes to the unsheltered. with the crumbs, i financed a seafood restaurant in the caribe. blues continued association with dustin should have been a flag.

blue and i met around his desire to delve further into my clarity of the monetary system. i valued his due diligence. i guided blue on how to digest and dig through information about information about information. he source-sought to a point whereas my guidance for him was over.

our intellectual banter is what created the foundation of “money cant kill music.” knowing all that he did, blue would still ask me questions that he knew i would not answer.

blue was working on building a brand. i was nurturing a movement. blue was taking care of a family in the system of slavery. i was trying to create a bridge for my family to see a way out of slavery at their own will.

blue has ventured to more places outside of the united states because of me; not his family, nor because of his grammy-nominated song.as i was preparing to leave the caribe, blue was planning his exodus from the big-bad-usa. kebs said that blue wanted to fill in my space after i left. kebs mentioned this to me in a mumble that didn’t rumble in my ear until recently.

fast forward through a lot of stuff, and here i have blue in costa rica, with some strange passive aggressive energy sitting in front of me and the dwarf at the music studio.

blue is asking the dwarf questions about my family, travels, and names to see if i had shared these things with her. he wasn’t expecting her to say “yes.” for intimate life details, she had more information about facts than blue. nothing he said to her, nor asked of her, in that moment was of a surprise (though maybe not fully digested).

four months prior, blue was in stockholm to perform in “that musical-thingy.” he was finally experiencing the gratitude and support i often tried to share with him.

i should have known when he proudly took sides with some fabricated story of toledo pulling a

gun on me to save his niece and nephew from the crazy earf-man...that something was truly off. i knew toledo would be impressionable on blue, just not to what extent.

as written in “open me up”: i’ve had a gun drawn on me two times/ now those two are too hard to find/ she looked at me like, “are you implying?”/the truth hurts and i couldn’t face lying/i did an about face and i left, silent/

while sharing his story in the studio, i could see that blue was uncomfortable. i was amused by blue’s tone and body language and yet still missed the moment because i was more into sharing songs from a project titled “candid.”

i told blue that toledo never pulled a gun on me. yet blue, like serena, was lost in his own thoughts and whims.

i missed so many signs and failed to recall pivotal moments with serena. serena lives in puerto viejo because i encouraged her to take a dive at life. she had always spoken on how much she loved life there, the good times, the feeling, her senses and the possibilities that san jose could never provide.

i would often ask for her cons to not going to puerto. each time, the cons of not trying were less and less deterring. eventually she took the dive and here she was in the caribe.

here i am, for years, telling everyone around the world how cool this woman is. i always told eddie and toby how well she rolled a joint. i told tatjana. i told the dwarf but later learned that she rolled the best joint. then it was like... how epic would it be if you two rolled one.. and then... um.. it happened.

kebs later told me of his shock upon hearing serena tell him that i left her alone with the dwarf. he thought i had some super plan and knew what serena was doing to the dwarf. i didn’t... but let’s back up.

before i left costa rica to share a message, i took a trip to visit athena and friends in guatamaya. dreamy joined me on this trip for her first voyage out of costa rica. let’s back up

03 many mini moments

a bit more...

before this, i was spending a lot of time with serena and her daughter in san jose. we laughed, we danced, we sang, and most of all, we spoke. serena asked a lot of questions. i gave her the best answers i could. while she’s not the sharpest needle in the haystack, i know that a master can explain a complex matter simply.

and though i am no master, i recall, her “oh shit, i get it moment.” a moment i’ve shared with anyone who has given my thought process and perspective a moment of consideration. lets back up further.

before she and i ever spent time in san jose, she had attempted to kiss me, unsuccessfully; and invited herself up to my room at maritza, again unsuccessfully. i thought from this point that these moments were over. fast forward.

i visit serena’s home. she makes a kind offer for me to sleep in the bed with her. i ask if its okay to sleep on the sofa. she says yes. i thought that was it. fast forward a bit more.

dreamy and i begin our trip north. later, kebs tells me that serena shared her thoughts on how she should have been on that trip with me instead of dreamy. serena concluded that dreamy and i must be having sex. she believed this narrative so much so that she told the story to people for years as though it were a fact. even after dreamy, kebs and myself said it never happened, serena continued with the story. her justification was, “i believe it happened, so it happened.”

and this is why i will never fight someones thoughts. your truth is your truth and often times that truth is bigger, bolder and more real than the facts.

somehow i hurt serena and she was out to make sure i felt it. i remember her reaction to me asking that she give justyna a ride somewhere. it was a similar reaction to when jenny rode in the car with the dwarf. mini moments i missed.

serena later told me that, when i abruptly departed the caribe, her brothers, mother and others would ask her questions about me. about what we spoke on. when she didn’t have answers that she was confident about... all she had left to do was throw me under the bus because i was gone and they were there.

she told me this on the same day i told her how she was one of the few women that i was comfortable being around without any pressure of having sex or the non-spoken tension around it. go figure!

serena’s attacks were always to my back. never face-to-face. she was the first being i sought out after the dwarf left and she avoided our inevitable meeting several times. serena: the worst pussy i ever had, is the pussy i never.

what do you think happens when you write: “i love you” for the first time to someone and the response is “what now?” well, that happened and for me that was enough. i got really quiet. i was weary. after years of holding on to so many colors for the sake of a painting the perfect picture, i dropped the brush.

one of my beings then shouted, “villain! they want you to be a villain. you’re the bad guy!” there was a part of me seeking to place blame everywhere but at myself.

many mini moments was the first creation to clear things from my head. this song and beat helped me to get this voice out. this feeling was trapped in the song. it feels as if i leveled up in the game of life after this sentiment got out.

to say that music saved my life is an understatement. i am unable to recall a moment where the thoughts of so many people from past moments were recollected so clear and full at the same exact moment.

to date, only dawna really knew what was going or had the best hunch. i shared my thoughts with scott, kae, duke, marva, dawitch, kebs and nikka but had dawna not messaged jt to inquire on my whereabouts, momentos would not be. (jt, this was not about an artistic death.)

03 many mini moments

iBREATHE

coro (x2)to help anxiety recedei breathe 1 2 3to pause and recharge my chii breathe 1 2 3to calm all inner entitiesi breathe 1 2 3to align you and me to wei breathe 1 2 3

verse 1

with friends sitting back thinking up silly thoughtsasking “what thought is really silly?”is what i really thought then off shot a thoughtquickly fired from my mouthinspired by a thought had whenclimbing up a mountain (pura vida)the actions of ones life are constantly mounting until death so as it relates to experiencecan one have an over amount then?did i think before opening my mouth then?did you understand the words coming out? then why do questions pit curiosity vs doubt why do i have a tendency to over think and under react what do you think of that?looking in the mirror not expecting an answerthough oddly hoping that it boldly taps me on the back or starts chanting “hims” powerful connecting rhythms that resonate within hymn

coro (x2)to help anxiety recedei breathe 1 2 3to pause and recharge my chii breathe 1 2 3to calm all inner entitiesi breathe 1 2 3to align you and me to wei breathe 1 2 3

verse 2

wait, i need a momenti’m processing a year of many momentswhere mini moments got unjustly magnified i sat in silence ears and eyelids open widei know i’m the source of several circlesi knew my departure would severe circlesdidn’t know i’d be called a financial predator as quoted in a letter from the closest thing in my circlelaura ditches urkel, heard it beforeyet the feeling i had i never hurt it before for the moment i’m thankful though not looking for morei’m looking in awe as music and poemsstart taking new forms and as my journey grows upi can share recountings that i never wrote upthank you (la)bros for your skepticism observation and pessimism when we woke’s upour best has yet to hit’emlet’s go get’em

with nati and celestine, i hiked up a mountain to meet thierry. along the mountain path, there is an opening that allows you to hear and see the ocean.

as we approached the mountain top,on this day and in this moment i had a thought. (inhale) is it possible to have an over-amount, or overdose, of life experience? (exhale)

my relationship with celestine is the closest energy that i have to makayli and many things about tatjana remind me of moe. my relationship with tatjana has been ripped and riddled with insecurities. her insecurities led to lies about me that i never addressed. lies that tatjana would later share with blue as facts.

tatjana used blue in an attempt to get me to speak to her. (inhale) she reached out to people she thought were close to me based on my social media profile. (exhale) tatjana told a tale that reconnected me to a dark hole in my soul; prepubescent truths i had never addressed.

the time spent with tatjana and my sudden departure from our moment ended a dream-like world that we had created so abrubtly that she couldn’t breathe. something had to be wrong. i became her target for a dark release.

tatjana was the most powerful trigger to eventually recalling my prepubescent sexual abuses. one night, in berlin, she touched me in a way that left me momentarily paralyzed.

i was trapped in a dark space, falling into the depth of an impenetrable silence... all while screaming “stop.” the dark result of this brief moment echoed everyday i thought of her ... until we spoke.

after years, we spoke face-to-face on several matters and now grow though it. she offered to retract the attacks, letters and lies shared. i said it’s better to keep moving forward. i will never agree with what she did. i accept that it had to happen.

before all of this, i told blue that things with tatjana had been resolved. blue initiated communication with tatjana and used emotional outpours that she shared with him in confidence. i could sense something was awry but full immersion in my addiction didn’t allow me to react accordingly.

tatjana, feeling strange about blue mailing her, later shared emails of him asking about our relationship. i read all the vile things she wrote about me. afterwards we monitored his emails and collaborated on responses to blue.

to tatjana and many others, i introduced blue as my “brother” and from there he had a clear entrance into the hearts, ears and arms of a superb group of beings - worldwide. the only reason blue was warmly welcomed to the caribe... including but not limited to lazy mon, jessy chick, kebs, dreamy, serena, jt and costa rica for that matter, was because of me. (my ego is definitely in control of the pencil right now.)

initially, kebs kept blue in a select space because he didn’t know who the man was. they’ve never had a meaningful exchange outside of my introduction. kebs mentioned how he and dreamy distanced themselves from blue after a meeting in san jose.

blue invited kebs and dreamy to dinner so that he could share details about my relationship with tatjana. to share things i never said to him. to share things tatjana said out of rage with the purpose of getting my attention.

dreamy was quick to catch the snake in the grass. her first inquiry was why would blue invite them out to discuss matters of christiano that do not effect anyone there? what was to be gained? what was blue trying to accomplish? (kebs was appalled that blue made them pay for dinner.)

(inhale) dreamy shared details of several encounters with blue justifying why he will never walk on the playa chaquita property with his head up ever again. (exhale)

04 iBreathe

04 iBreathe

i may never hug dawitch again. (breathe)thecanjam never tracked soul beautiful (breathe)(inhale) itamar brought me back to my inner calm during our first meeting and embrace. i thank him for the realignment. (exhale)

i spoke to women that apolgized for raping me. (pause)

a untriumphant return home left the dwarf holding on to a lot of questions, stories and whispers. she wrote a letter that i still hear about. new visitors to quincy and jenny’s place have met me, only to share that i am not like they describe. in their gossip mill i am a financial predator and somone to stay away from. the 3 people who shared this warning with me happened to all be running from quincy and jennys place.

my only lingering thought was not taking my music files off of the dwarfs computer. when i mentioned that i would copy the files before she left, the dwarf asked “why? are you already giving up on us?”

i wasn’t giving up. with all the other people talking thru her at me, i knew that we could be together no more. (inhale) i didn’t take the music. i believed we were stronger than this moment. i didn’t think of the future. (exhale) “scream” was the only file i wanted.

something had to break between us. either my mask was coming off or she was leaving. in the end, both occurred. (breathe)

(inhale) the dwarf is why i could finally see and release a piece of me that had no voice to scream! (exhale) the dwarf unknowlingly unlocked emotions within me that i failed to release.

tending to the future and living in the past

are insults to the present.

this is why i write. this is why recalling my sexual abuses hurt in the moment. after failed attempts to express myself, i locked all paths leading to this memory. my emotions were buried.

i recall when she asked me if i was trying to sabotage us being together. i didn’t answer. i was struck by the truth and insight of her question. i

was indeed sabotaging us because of something i could not see. issues i had yet to acknowledge. her reflective question broke me into pieces.

in stockholm, the dwarf introduced me to a woman that she loves, admires and holds in high regards. this same woman triggered the dwarf like nothing i’d seen, outside of a movie, until i remembered why i could not speak to tatjana.

holding on to the dwarf after this moment ignited a slow eruption within me. i realize now that i needed the dwarf to grow up... and that i was addicted to her... but did i love her? did rick james love cocaine? (breathe)

i never invited the dwarf to relocate costa rica. (inhale) initially she mentioned visiting for vacation and exponentially that turned into a full life redirection. (exhale) the dwarf saw me struggle with the growing reality of our move. i warned her of this place and how we’d be tested. did i do something wrong? could we have been better off elsewhere? do i love her? (breathe)

all of these thoughts arose while sitting at that magical point atop the mountain and rehydrating with pipas.

it was there that breathing truly released the last weight of this emotional garbage from the past year. i was at peace once more. it was on this day that i began to ascend towards the clarity and light that afforded me so many unfathomable treasures. it was from this point on that i could share words never said.

it was but a few days after writing this song that i met quisha who happened to speak mandarin (go figure) and we tracked this song in itamars spaceship. (inhale) i experienced a new sensation of love. (exhale)

an evening of brownies and breathing took us up and away to a place where blanket met pillow. an effortless reunion of energy that made each moment more savory.

with momentos, i leave everything in these pages. poetry is practice and theraphy

ibreathe 1-2-3

GROWING UP

growing up is a cycle that never stopsthe knowledge you’ve gainedone day you must imparton the mind or the soulor the heart of anothersifting through memoriessome days are harder than others

verse iplease pardon me for theproblems i deliveredin pursuit of my peacei’ve warred with my innerand in the path of it allthere are friends that i’ve hinderedi never monetized lovethough money often entersconversations & relationssituations leave me bracingshould i pay in cents or sensethese thoughts they keep me pacingreluctantly i’ve takengifts and / or donationsvoices meet invoicesthat question if i’ll pay themgigs still want to pay mei wonder if i’ll take’emdawitch is the reasonwe can hold #mckmfree albums given to zombiesi wonder if they played’emwhats the price one should pay whensaying our music saved’em, man?

growing upis a cycle that never stopsthe knowledge you’ve gainedone day you must imparton the mind or the soulor the heart of anothersifting through memoriessome days are harder than others

verse iithinking of those dayswithout my father & motherheating the house with the ovenwith my aunt and my cousini learned we was brokewhile playing dozens with 3rd cousinsi thought the heat stayed out‘cause there was so much love in manwe was super brokeand stayed super soakedfrom supers-soakersfilled with hopesby kinfolks that truly loved ushow many of usappreciate the pain from loved onesmeant to add strainpromote change & “mario” 1-up us?even tough love gets misjudged disrupts and dislodges logic from a just cause just because its misunderstooddoes it mean the actor action is not good?i need to knowi’m trying to growbefore i goplease let me know

Growing up. When i reference that term its not about staying a child. its about not losing the space that children have to grow thats taken from them. i wont let that happen to me. so right now im processing some things because im growing. and now im sharing.

this was supposed to be my last song. its not even a song. it was a needed release. the rumbling before the eruption.

i was listening and sharing what i could of “thecanjam thursdays in stockholm” in various restaurants and meeting places. i was elated to be an ambassador to a meaningful musical movement.

i was done with music. i left hardrock cafe knowing that a change was needed. i didn’t even get on the mic at the last event because i wanted it to be about the new members. i didn’t feel a goodbye was necessary.

i didn’t want to see dawitch in a goodbye format. i couldn’t let her go. still haven’t. its a similar sentiment shared seeing makayli and journey at the airport last. i was determined not too look back because i left for them. (referenced it in a song recorded in copenhagen with gnu records called “i remember you.” ) after sitting days in a poorly ventilated house, with a increasingly depressed woman, without headphones or music i got my iphone back. it wasn’t even mine, it was a gift from simon - someone i would welcome more time with.

this beat started to play and for the next few days, i would mumble out what eventually became the second verse.

the 1st verse of growing up didn’t come out until rosalina and i trekked up to quincy’s place to retrieve my things. it was here that he shared snippets of the letter that the dwarf wrote. she had been gone less than a week.

when quincy stated that i could have been a better player... that i could have played the

game more like the dudes in town, i was a bit miffed.

he went on to say that, you should have said, “look my girlfriend has money, she’s gonna get the place and i’m using her.”

i asked him what the fuck he was talking about and he mentioned the letter written to them referencing some rather fucked up things.

i didn’t ask to read the letter though i did ask quincy if he thought i did those things written in the letter to which he said...”- no, well, i don’t know... no brother, i dont think you did it on purpose but this shit is all fucked up and now we’re a part of it. my wife is gonna be sooo pissed... bye bro.”

in that moment, the first and only tear that ran down my face was the sweetest. bittersweet. the dwarf had actually taken time write out the noise in her head. the dwarf cleared out several weak links around me with her story and her unexpectedly quick return to sweden.

she had to return with a shitty narrative of cheating, lies, and using her for money instead of what it actually was. one of my entities sent duke a wildly written and emotionally driven outburst. more truth than fact; more cluttered emotions than clear rationale.

through it all, had my rationale trumped my emotion and had my addiction taken second place to my heart, i could have avoided several misplaced narratives.

labros and karl questioned me from the start and it is with this skepticism i wish most people met me. be a skeptic, once we make it past your threshold ... our bond is solid.

05 growing up

duke and tasha vetted me the best they could in a similar fashion. through it all, i wound up harming duke from words i never said. he endured a lot of business, personal and social strain from his trust in my ability to deliver a product or an explanation that i never offered.

dawitch is why we can touch mckm as a vinyl album/book. even when the balance is paid, there is a priceless tab that accounts for our magic tally. she is probably the most integral piece to the story of christiano can that has yet to be shared. we met shortly after mr. can was born and i don’t forsee a day without something that reminds me of her.

when i started writing this, yotam told me how his mother was on the beach collecting items to make one-of-a-kind art pieces. i sat and listened as i thought of dawitch’s exhibition in stockholm showcasing pieces made in costa rica.

growing up for me consisted of a lot of moving from place-to-place. home-to-home, teacher-to-teacher. i didn’t have any familiar faces to say i grew up with, outside of a few cousins.

i was unattached. i was untamed. kae would say, i was her little prince.

growing up is a lesson and my greatest lessons have come from being still. its one reason why i waited so long to pen these past issues.

the other reason required that i look within first. i had to point the finger at me before it could be pointed elsewhere.

my private nature was nurtured. when i stayed with my aunt and my cousin, you could not come to our home and enter if you didn’t know the proper knocking sequence. we would not pick up the phone if you didn’t know the proper ringing pattern. this was before caller id.

i learned the value of privacy as my aunt would sit back and scoff at people talking about her solitude, her diet, and her love life. i was on the inside-looking-out and therefore i knew what we heard coming in was all disgruntled heresay.

hey auntie p-a-t/i remember when you would try to spank me/ i heard your feet/i faked asleep/first time i learned how to skip-the-beat/ i remember we would often speak/ about the things that made us we/ you almost always let me be/ youre my shining star/ you shine thru me/

i dont owe anyone my story, my perspective, my words, my opinion, my time nor my answers.

there are those who i will wait however long it takes to address face-to-face or in death. tatjana was one until she came to costa rica.

duke, kevin, dawitch and blue come to mind. i’ve seen blue in cr twice. it’s not our time... yet.

i have long let go of the guilt from finger-pointing, disappointment and comments about my actions. shit happens. you can sit in a pile of shit, or wash it off and keep it moving. life is short. too short to hold on to shit.

ive grown. i’m still growing and i’m still learning. there is no rule book to this life so i write to keep track of progress. i share because its a part of growing up.

can you see the cycle? am i psycho?

visionless,did my insight go?

oh no (pharoahe monch voice)

05 growing up

ITS ALL OVER

have you ever had one of those momentswhen you knew you were supposed to be a part of the weed circle and you walk up in there, and it’s your turn. and everyone looks in the air like, um...

and you know that the blunt can’t be finishedbecause you looked man it was just beginning, but... (( its all over ))

you turned your head for a minute. it comes aroundto see that its just now ended. eyy!(( its all over ))

my damn, i remember playing ballhit the final four, oh boy, i turned right(( its all over ))

screaming out, kinda proudmy friends shrugging in the crowd saying “nope, yo...(( its all over ))

now, i just wanted a tokefinal four, i just scoredno joke? (( its all over ))

my damn did you eat the weedi cannot believe beforei scored the final three its(( its all over ))

then my girl came stressingtalking about a message screaming aloud saying how(( its all over ))

i didn’t get ittext out of contextim guilty, no contest (oh?!)(( its all over ))

i ride out, cruise down the lanenew mind-frame relax hey(( its all over ))

laid back under starsthankful and glad that,um, well it’s all...(( its all over ))

RUNNING BACK

i can’t sing but i be singingi be singing all the timepeople look at me like it’s a crime

first sight first glance at chasaw me walking down the aisle locked hands wit chadim lights, candle night dance wit chaafter dinner i got more plans wit chafour-play your way if you’re down wit metonights backs rub takes your frown with meand your stress with me every breathe in methanks you till no life’s left in mebecause you exposed the best in mebes’believe, yes i’m working onsubjects that i’m subject to be way more open on like you saying if the loves real i’d come home to get you.the space made watching you drive awayhelped me keep rolling on going back for what i had like chasing past paths ain’t mad!?kinda glad you’re gone!

kinda glad you’re gone now i can sing this songkinda glad you’re gone now i can sing this songwe had our time together there is no rewind.when i look back it’s all fineand now i can see that

it’s my t-i-m-e right nowit’s my time right nowwhat’s better than now what’s better than right now

i ain’t coming backi gave it all i had running backwardsas the teams lead running-back andbacking back into my own end zone? i’d rather zone in jim brown mode and then gon’ get goingain’t no fun in that...running back to the all wild moments,thoughts and things that we already had?i ain’t coming backwhere’s the growth in that?it’s never as good as that first experience we have already beenit’s why i ceased going back againshould it be another random happening love and peace is where our paths meet as friends release is deliverance and peace is indiscriminate so please, keep on delivering a piece of your deliverance capische

kinda glad you’re gone now i can sing this songkinda glad you’re gone now i can sing this songwe had our time together there is no rewind.when i look back it’s all fineand now i can see that

it’s my t-i-m-e right nowit’s my time right nowwhat’s better than now what’s better than right now

it’s my time and i’m taking it!

in this fairytale moment, the dwarf shared how others were commenting on her financing our trip and accommodations up to this point. she shared their doubts and suggestions.

“if you love me, you will come and get me”, she said. “you’ll get a real job and a ticket and come to stockholm and things will be different.”

i was at a loss for words because i had already lost her. when she began to bring in and relay the words and opinions of others as though i should care or respond to them... i had already faded away. our moment was fleeting.

“do you think i am unable to make money or that i do not have it? i always asked you to tell me if finances became a burden. i offered to pay for things and you declined. i’m not coming back, i came for you once. this will be our end.”

she asked why had i given up and why i was already speaking past tense. from what i knew of this woman and the friends that she was to return, me being the anomaly that i am, i would be demonized before the plane landed via thoughts on that long and arduos flight.

i didn’t give up on us. i adore us and our differences. i gave up on them. this was all before i realized that she needed to leave, or we neeeded distance, for my next phase. this thing called life is brilliant in its sequencing.

i did and i do love her. running back would not prove that as i had to shed a lot of layers to get back down to my source.

my love and admiration for my moment with the dwarf has grown exponentially since this song was recorded.

[ i later heard that another part of our separating narrative had me character researching her documented history and cases online. and that i sought her out for money. (“scooby snacks!”) ]

i had and continue to have an uncanny ability to generate curiosity and attention. money, praise and scorn come with this.

i know my worth and since then i have refused to go back to working for less than my value.

i robbed banks based on how i saw the injustices and major misunderstandings of the morally corrupt financial system.

you gotta understand/ i left some family and friends/hanging without saying words i did not have right there and then/ some said that i was dumb/ others thought i was on the run/i was dumb enough to run/ from being numbed up just like them/

i may physically return to several places. i will never mentally return to the world where money motivates, manipulates or is master of my moves.

this song started as a writing challenge to tatjana. she wrote about not going back to germany and i wrote about not going back to anyone, and in this instance it has strong references the dwarf.

on the flipside, a part of this song started with kae and big wil back in 2001. this was a writing excerise at the time. selecting fragments from “lets make love again” and sharing it 15 years later as a relevant piece of something new is sweet.

i was talking with quisha who mentioned how a songwriter, at a song-writing camp, stated that old poems and blurbs written during non-focused whims should be discarded. i disagree.

if you build your pie crumb by crumb, it matter not the method. it’s the cake that matters. i am quick to put what seemed like random blurbs together and watch as they become purposeful, clear messages.

the continuity is within me... the center of each moment. if they can be connected, i can connect them.

labros didn’t know that i would do anything to this groove... although he wasn’t shocked that it grabbed me, nor disappointed at the first reference i shared with him.

growing out with my lessons learned has me living in gratitude. sharing the lessons learned is

growing up and growing up is a cycle that never stops.

07 running back

BLAMELESS

through the pains and joysi hear the noisei stand my poiseas i’ve come to learn

something about this musicno matter how good it’s doingand the people it’s keeps movingthere’s a feeling so strongwhen i get creative i go up into my bubbleand return down from my shuttleto a land unknownin the eyes of those i knowthe men & women i’ve seen growthe children i’ve seen grow so closelook at me so coldthe magic that we’ve been makingimpossibles, we’ve seen changinghave all been replaced with doubts since i was gone

if it ain’t love that you get from methen its a lesson learned from a mystery

please tell me the difference betweenlove, a lesson learned and a mystery

the more i’ve triedthe harder i failedthe highest i fellmade me want to drownout all of the pain, hurt and all the shame of those i loved so me burned down my egos crownnow theres no more downsonly ups from herei looking up, no fearsall laughs behind these tearswe meet once next time we meet our changeskeep flipping these life pagesi feel pain yet i won’t claim iteven if it’s because of you, i won’t name itmy hand is stretched to help a friendmy pain is named blameless

i can admit when i am wrong.it takes time for me to acknowledge

when i have been wronged.

my friends and lovers all fall into 2 categories:those that when called come over and

those when called out overcome.

27/09/16

08 blameless

“there is something that i want to share with you. thank you for the love and light you have shared with me this short amount of time i have got to spend with you. there aren’t any words that can really describe the effect you have had on me already.

i know that i will always remember this time with you, with so much love and as a changing point for me and my journey. your soul is one of the most inspiring i have ever encountered. you have sparked a light in me. i’m learning to embrace positivity from others instead of fear, and see the light within me instead of letting my past shape who i’m going to be. i am not my past.

i feel a calm in me that i haven’t in many years, i was always searching for a solution for my heartbreak. when i started searching for the answers within me, i let love fill me. i’m going to start on this positive journey that i so deserve instead of keep punishing myself for things other people have done to me.

i’m taking my body, mind and soul and thank you for the light.” - Love Looking At Love

today, may 9, my hard drives, microphone and journals were stolen. the irony of the entire break-in is that a computer, hundreds in cash and more electronics were not taken. only my items were removed. while ed and tatjana were a bit bothered... i am quite relieved. i no longer think about how or when to share archived items. they’re gone. hey thief, i’m thankful for this lighter load.

i am appreciative of every moment that has occurred. i am clear on many more things because of this transformation and reconnection with my emotions. speaking with the women that sexually abused me, standing in love, being addicted to my lover and simultaeously engulfed by a movement i began, truly stretched me out. i have broken into a much stronger, versatile and compassionate being.

we only meet once,

next time we meet our changes.

momentos spans a very short and potent time frame. from august 2015 to august 2016. and within this span of time there are over 200 pages of notes, songs, blurbs and connections written.

music has effected my life in ways words weave and wave away from. through it all, my joys and sorrow are equal in their heights and depths. momentos covers a few of my weakest and strongest points; and several memorable lessons. there has never been anyone to blame. i have only gratitude for the experiences.

momentos was meant to be as raw as my journal; as bouncy as my thoughts. i chose not to edit, or revisit, any of the momentos while writing this. no spelling or grammar checks.

however, after tatjana invaded my space, yet again, to prematurely read momentos in a state of paranoid-stupor, i then made one edit round. tatjana was afraid of what i may share via my personal art. i think her lies, lust and lunacy amuse me. why else is she around at this point? should i give her what she wants? quite a mystery by now, usually, after getting to a certain plateau in any industry, i would move on to something else. as much as i duck and dodge personal attention, which is odd considering how personal and intentional my art is, i have chosen to continue sharing my creative feats.

today, may 8, i shared “the moment before momentos.” the feedback has confirmed the existence of blanks about who i am, what i am working on and what i have accomplished. none of those points are of importance.

it was great to have an exchange with lazarina as she began to digest my (hidden) body of work. its almost as if we met for the first time. sharing my works with those interested in having them is of importance.

meeting nancy and reading her book changed the pace at which i wrote. i must get a copy of her book. meeting quisha and gunther during the final stages of momentos made ending the creation process light. jeff said that one must create nuances to continue enjoying what life has to offer. i told kae, that i would share everything i have created and then see where the world takes me. thank you for reading this far... if you did.

boredom creeps in often.if i hadn’t learned how to

control and enjoy my entitiesnone of myselves would be here

to enjoy these momentos. quite a momentous moment.

front cover: loko-motion / jose jimenez01 jazz on my tongue prod: freddie cruger aka red astaire photo: akilah nisa 02 an addictive prick prod: pac beats production photo: tony anderson

03 many mini moments photo: petra rolinec 04 ibreathe feat. quisha musiq can prod: kupla sound photo: dawitch 05 growing up photo: the poetician feat. long ngo

06 its all over prod: dj grumble x kid vision

07 running back prod: labros productions photo: lennart brorsson

08 blameless feat. quisha musiq can prod: ultraviolence photo: vitalis jenmert gunther ifländer photo above: petra rolinec / 8ties babyback cover: claude duke / dukedom studios art director: the poetician

can goods iii: momentos recorded at guntheribean studios, costa rica mixed & mastered by: labros productions