Mind Sex

Pardon me love but you seem like my type
What you doin tonight? you should stop by the site
We could, roll some weed play some records and talk
I got a fly spot downtown brooklyn, new york
Now I know you think I wanna fuck, no doubt
But tonight well try a different route, how bout we start
With a salad, a fresh bed of lettuce with croutons
Later we can play a game of chess on the futon
See I aint got to get in your blouse
Its your eye contact, that be getting me aroused
When you show me your mind, it make me wanna show you mines
Reflecting my light, when it shines, just takin our time
Before the nights through, we could get physical too
I aint tryin to say I dont wanna fuck, cause I do
But for me boo, makin love is just as much mental
I like to know what Im gettin into

My nipples tingled when I first read this verse, before I even heard the insanely sensual beat it came attached to. What power music has over me. My ears are the windows to my soul, feeding me just makes me greedy.

I realized why I have such a fondness for talent (in its different forms), and the tendency to push someone into pursuing their passion (to an obnoxious point, I admit - I half-heartedly apologize). I like it when people expose themselves through expression too. I like it when they need to. We relate.

This is why I can't do my art, whether it be my writing or my drawing, commercially. It's still an expression to me. It's for you to find out what it means, not to tell me what to make it.

Listen to Parachute by Sean Lennon. It's nice.