I have a bad habit of listening to sad music when I’m sad. To come to think about it, it’s not actually sad music. It’s just music that closest relates to how I’m feeling at that moment

I guess we cling onto the things that allow us to loath in our pain, and rhythms and rhymes keep us wrapped up in self pity, but at the same time, I feel like I need to be at my worst to get to my best. It’s just a whole mix up.

My life is a playlist.
My playlist is as random as the shuffle button.
You never know what you’re going to get until you get it.
I already have a weird taste in music.
I could go from the calmest, most soothing song to some death metal music. I heard black people don’t listen to heavy metal. That isn’t entirely true. We do listen to heavy metal.... when we’re in a car with white people

Sometimes, heavy metal is the order of the day
With the rowdy instruments and the high pitched voice, sometimes it’s hard to make sense of what we don’t understand. After such a wild song, you can bet my ears are ringing even after the songs done, and that’s why I feel like my life is a playlist. You know never know what you’re getting until you get it and after you get what you got, the pain and trauma linger in your life a little after the song ends, and the funny thing about a playlist is that it’s consistent with the different songs and it’s not a respecter of the last song so you can have 3 heavy metal songs play in a row, by the time a good calm song comes on, you can hardly hear it and that’s why sometimes I can hardly hear her.

After 3 bad relationships, when the right one comes along, my heart is still beating to the pain my past has inflicted and now she’s wondering why my heart doesn’t beat for her... it’s because it beats for them...

I know how this sounds but I’m over them.
Well, I am. I think I am. It’s a little confusing because every time she says I love you, my heart feels a little pain because that last person to say that to my heart, ended breaking it.

I know what this sounds like
I do love her, too. Most of the time.
I’m just being honest. On the days I don’t love her it’s purely because I feel that I don’t deserve to be with her in the state that I’m in.

I know her playlist is also on shuffle
I just want to be that artist that she’s been waiting for. The one whose music is flawed but true. It’s genuine. I want to be the artist that makes all the other artists look like mumble rappers. Their beats move me more than their words do. I know that it seems like I’m going at other genres, and I’m actually not. Just like I’m entitled to an opinion, I know what she likes because she shares her opinions with me, and loud noises, high pitched voices, sick beats with no meaning behind their words isn’t what she likes.

I’ve mastered the art of layering everything she likes, into one song so even when she has a terrible set of songs, there’s one song that will come along and restore what every other song took away. I make her whole with my broken pieces and it’s intentionally so because I was produced, mixed and mastered to the tune of her life so she’s always compatible with my content. She’s always content when listening to the sounds of a her heartbeat, through the earphones of my chest, which ultimately lead to my heart. I’m her favorite song, and she’s my favorite listener.