“…so much on my mind I just can’t recline/blasting holes in the night ’til she bled sunshine./(breathe in) inhale vapors from bright stars that shine/(breathe out) weed smoke retrace the skyline…/I can’t take it y’all/I can feel the city breathin’/chest heavin’…sigh before we die like the last train leaving.”

Blackstar, 1998

You gotta breathe even when you don’t want to.  Unless you have the balls to make breath stop, it won’t stop.  Until it wants.

Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future…

Some days–today was one–I’m not so sure that the future is some place I wanna be.  I mean, not to be all angsty (that’s probably not a real word) but moan, moan, sigh, moan some more, sigh.

Oh well, enjoy this video:

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