polyphony.

the ill blend.

that's me, kiko. the ill blend is on!

how so?

well. for one, that strictly business side of me, the one that exhibits high levels of pragmaticism and is calculating and precise; it's in full effect. but dig- for a cause, yo... i'm being progressively apropos, if i can use that word like that. and that's the segue to the second half of the blend, my dreamer/ambitious side. i guess it's just a culmination of an awful year, my diehard spirit and resiliency, and the realization that i really need to be capitalizing on the talent given to me. i also want to collaborate with others in this mission.

i'll be honest.

quixo's got me *quite* excited. the whole not-thanksgiving thing is such a good idea; even if nothing comes of it. it's about giving folks the opportunity to get down on the come up, you know? i'm amped off the strength of his ideas, and i've got a few of my own i will present (barring a not-so-unlikely overtaking by my ever present shy bug) to the collective party.

i want to do a magazine, man. between the excellence of wax poetics and the poor quality of many other mags and journals, coupled with the quality of writing i've seen my peoples exhibit, man... it seems like a worthwhile investment. i know from research that print is difficult to jump into, especially with funding and the like. monetization is always a bitch. but i see nothing wrong with busting a move in cyberspace, doing the damn thing with a comprehensive site where we can all get our write on, as well as promote the venues quest spoke of, and whatever else we get into.

i foresee big things in the "possible" range, yo. how 'bout we achieve? i mean, the opportunity for realization has me geeked, because i fucks with some capable folk. i know we can do this if we are serious about it. if it flops, i'd be saitisfied with having tried, and learned, so i can try again, on some smarternexttime shit.

i'm also getting mad serious about my music. it's one thing that i have to keep reminding myself about myself. i can learn anything. i mean, that's not some inspiration chant i repeat to myself, i just eventually learn all that i consistently involve myself in. it's always been that way. so, i say all that to say that i'm learning this music production stuff. day by day. lemme get my set up the way i want it. it is OVER.
man... fucking premier is coming to philly along with jay ski on the 15th. performing. dude.

PRIMO.



yes, that one. christopher martin. gangstarr. dwyck. come clean. bring it on (jayz). half time. unbelievable. (b.i.g)

i'm hyped. stef holds it down lovely as a promoter. i'm mad thankful she keeps philly busy like she does. now if she can get pete rock and madlib here...

and then, beatsociety is holding a producer's show. local cats, but somebody's gonna have an sp-1200, yo. WONderful. i shant miss these.

you know, as long as my cashflow is ok, november could be a nice month. let's hope things stay ill.

in other news, i miss my brother. i don't talk as much here these days; i'm sure my peoples have noticed it. it's cuz outside of my brother, i am a quiet guy. me and him could rap on almost anything. but you know what? i don't wish him back here. he's doing his thing and there ain't a thing wrong with that. proud of him. he baked an apple pie for his housemates. pardon me.

L M A O !

why justin, how domestic of you!

naw, he just likes baking. and he's good at it too. i'll fuck up some of his pies man. and cakes too. he plays the keys and he makes beats and he makes pastries. quite a combination. i know them housemates are like, yoooo we scored a fockin' gem!!!

haha.

i went to the record spot and picked up some stuff. wanna check that manchild album out, kenny edmonds is on it with an afro and a beard, HA! um... pissed about the gouges in my john coltrane wax, that's wrong. but, what do you expect from a dollar bin?

*shrug*

ok. time to head back to the beats.

i'll be up in your systems, stayin non-linear, and keepin 'em nonplussed, cuz well, that's just what i do.

peace, love, and the pursuit of satisfaction.