(I love it when songs just make the words flow.  This is inspired by one of my favorite rap groups out of my home area, Prince George’s County, Maryland.  Day 18.)

Only one can win, that’s what Dilla told me.

Staring at my thoughts in clouds.
How to “make it”
Being so creative
And attempting to build a stable foundation from something as formless as the nimbus bodies floating above

I’ve yet to turn doing what I love into a survival tool
Living on heart alone may be worse than a strictly bread diet.
Lying on my back
Resting on doubt wondering why I can’t sleep well
Watching the truth float by
Like I don’t have wings
That’s why I sleep better on my stomach.

But how to get to peace and stability is one daydream that turns sighs into exasperation.
I put my hands behind my head
Tired from being arrested by stagnation
All I want to do is hustle
But fear sweeps through and cuffs me for every dope idea I’ve bagged and pocketed

I know the corners of my room aren’t the only drug spots.
If this is you,
I’m letting you know you aren’t alone.