It’s 8pm on a Friday & I’m getting ministered to everywhere I turn! Memorial is means to remember…
(Source: thedogdays03, via lacknothing)
It’s 8pm on a Friday & I’m getting ministered to everywhere I turn! Memorial is means to remember…
(Source: thedogdays03, via lacknothing)
In a city like New York this songs tend to be the score flowing in the channel between you and a stranger or a familiar face when you lock eyes.
Much Respect to Jessie Boykins for the solid production choices.
Had the pleasure of seeing Rahsaan Patterson perform on my birthday! He’s a ridiculous vocal talent as many people already know, but it was this song in particular that found residence in my ear and I’ve been listening to it as if it belongs to me.
I’m such a beast
but I make a better man
I was made better
I speak, I think and therefore I am
The moon is the high & low of man…
A man
I love the moment I come across honey to the ear. Check out this group from Copenhagen, Denmark!
If you know me, you know this movie means EVERYTHING to me… Mo’ Better Blues…
The more I watch this movie the more I learn about myself as a man, an artist and so on and so forth.
I posted a line from this track a few weeks ago, but the visual concepts for this story are fireworks in my brain. Mark this post, we’ll revisit in due time with the creative result.
Van Hunt- Moving Targets
By the time we fall asleep, our being has already broken before the body falls, before the submission to rest we have surrendered, given up our spirits for ghosts, died those little deaths that hide behind the white flags of fear where we buried our dreams. I can remember a time when my sleep wasn’t full of emptiness…
Subtext: Searching the walls of void…
frankocean: I never quit working. I work in the dark cause work is light. I tell my work all my problems because it never gives answers i have already. It never edits without me. Doesn’t call me names. I give my work away, because it doesn’t cost me much. In fact i’m indebted. I work hard since life is hard. Death is a soft place, it can wait. But work ain’t love. And love ain’t work. For sure. (via loveisthicker)
No matter how dim it gets wherever i am
She defined her gaze by his face. She looked at him like her existence was dependent on him being there. When the time came for them to part she was not the same person. There was a dive in that harsh exchange, her chin submerged in hopelessness, and her eyes were devoid of a presence. The rose in her cheeks wilted between her breathing and just having breath. There is misery in how raw in form we are. The discomfort of spirit wrapped in human flesh. The day would unravel her by the hour, she would be exposed to all the lonely shadows surrounding her and stripped of her ability to love until she could see him again, until her eyes could run for cover into his soul.
"Moving Targets play hard to hit, But tonight, Love I’ve got you in my sight & I cannot miss!"
- Courtesy of Van Hunt
Lianne can sing about the gentrification of squirrels in urban planning and I would still listen. Can’t wait to see her live!
