I had such a good year. People liked me for possibly the first time in my life. Strangers wanted to hug and kiss me. My idols got too close to my face, one told me, "you're the king!" and another, "I want you". I produced. I got things done. People paid me to fly places I would pay to go. People paid me to do the things I do for free. I felt neat. I liked the people I was around. They were making things, they inspired me. They weren't positive, like, "go git 'em tiger" they were positive by the example of the awesome shit they were making. People wanted my opinion, strangers wanted to profit off of me me. It was weird and awesome and bewildering. I have the sincere feeling it is all ending now. I am not cool anymore. I am only okay. Being cool was awesome though. You always think it is never as good as they say, but really, it is. If I could continue to be cool, I certainly would, but it is not my way. I guess I knew this from the start. I guess I just have to keep making shit and looking around. I hope one day to be cool again, but if not, well it was a good run. The summer I was fifteen I was really pretty. It was sort of like that. I'd been creepy to dudes my whole life, and then wham, dudes dug me for one halcyon summer. I suppose this last year was like that in my art. It is good it happened right? I won't get bitter right? It should just serve as further encouragement, not just bum me out when it is not nearly as hectic this year as it was last year at this time, right? I am a too-self-focused ungrateful schlub who should be counting my lucky stars that anything like what happened this past year would EVER occur for such a working class lame-o such as myself, right? Okay then.
― Migor, Monday, 5 December 2005 06:34 (nineteen years ago)
I had such a good year. I came out with my newest joint
Late Registration. I informed America that George Bush does not care about black people. I had my creative friend and partner Common working by my side. His album was a success. My album was a success, a bigger one. My good friend Jay-Z formed a mutually beneficial alliance with his former rival Nas, and I'd like to think even this had a little bit to do with me. I did put them on back-to-back tracks on my hit album, after all. I am working on Grammy-winner and friend Jamie Foxx's album and it will be
the joint, of course. I call my record label Getting Out Our Dreams (it's acronym is G.O.O.D., as in we make good music), and that is truly what I did. On my Touch the Sky tour I helped my fans touch their personal sky. It is like one summer when I was working at The Gap and they let me work the register for a week and this girl complimented my watch so I wrote a song about it and now always have good watches. Did I mention I am one of GQ's Men of the Year? Yes, I am. I am rich. I am a star. And it is good. They say it is not, but it always is. I mean, you would be happy if you had what I had right? You don't think I'm going to spoil all this with a horrible third album, do you? I'm just getting what I deserved after putting in long, hard hours as a working man, aren't I? You don't think I'll have to go back to the mall, do you? 'Cause I will work at Chik-Fil-A before I ever go near a Gap again, unless I own it. I don't spend too much money on clothes, do I? I will live as a legend, right? Okay then.
― regular roundups (Dave M), Monday, 5 December 2005 06:48 (nineteen years ago)