Runs In Transit

Month: December, 2016

The Philosophy of Drake

You can never have it all. But you can always keep trying. And you can always be honest. And somehow that truth will prevail.

Drake is the voice of millennials. Ever since his first EP we were told it’s okay to open up. It’s okay to be misunderstood. And being in tune with those emotions garners the most respect.

Vulnerability is power. Braggadocio is smoke and mirrors. The Lil Wayne of ’07 lives a prehistoric existence.

Swing the pendulum and aggression is tripe. Cunning, manipulation, and coyness win. Drake is Machiavellian; in the modern age, this is crucial. The technology that links us creates confusion, and wars are now fought using strings and levers. Violence is petty. Turning your followers against you is the modern death.

Drake is a teacher we must interpret. What can we learn from him?

Happiness might be impossible. And that’s okay, but chasing it is a worthwhile purpose.

It’s okay to reflect on the past to the extent that it nurtures the present. Cutting ties can be necessary and mending them is not unacceptable.

Patience is a virtue. Good things come to those who work hard and do not give up. Pacing yourself is necessary.

Hedonism does not mean losing yourself. Awareness in all moments is critical to growth. Stopping to understand is an important part of the process.

Our generation can’t rely on the ethics of our parents. We need guidance from figures that normalize our disconnect with reality. Drake has struck this chord. He’s influenced listeners who will own a world more complicated than the one before it. Like it or not he’s here to stay, and like it or not, his influence transcends music. It’s too late to reject Drake.



I’ve fucked up a million times and I’ll fuck up a million more. Coming to terms with that is difficult. It’s that soul-sucking, earth-shattering feeling when you want to throw up. When your reality is flipped and you’re helpless and any end feels like a good option.

I hate feeling like a lemon. I hate losing my dignity. I hate failing.

But it happens. We’re all human.

But I can’t forget. I can’t move on. I feel like I’m on a sinking ship. I could try to save myself, but I’m paralyzed. The anxiety of the situation is crippling. I’m alone in an ocean.

Focus. Think rationally. Crawl your way back out. Find safe ground. Put it in the past. Life’s not over. Forgive, but don’t forget. Learn from your mistakes.

Easier said than done. I’ll set my feet down, try to relax. Listen to some music. Go somewhere. Talk to someone. Clear my head.

But I don’t know if I can look at myself in the mirror anymore. At least not the same way. I’m sitting in the lobby wondering where it went wrong. Where the pieces were scattered and if it’s possible to put them back together.

I guess all we have is the present. If I don’t want this to happen again, I have to realize it. I’ll try again.

Translucent Battleground

Last year I was living underground.

Today, I face a battleground.

I wake up every morning and march towards war.

I drug myself to withstand the day.

I err and self injure.

But I’m thankful to have this opportunity.

I dreamt of being in this position all my life.

And this is where I need to be.

I’m changing so quickly it’s hard to recognize myself.

But I’m converging towards something.

I am improving and gaining knowledge.

I’ll wake up one day and know what I want.

And I think.

That will be enough.