There was a time, some time ago, when I would write naturally and nonstop. I had thoughts, and I had philosophy. As long as I can remember, for most of that time, I never imagined my words as song lyrics. They were just thoughts, just poetry — and most of the time, they were prose.
To write was to survive my own emotions and beliefs. It was to organize my own chaos into straight lines and square notebooks. Along the way, I was led to believe my words could find melodies of their own and become, perhaps,…
Read more