As the one-year anniversary of my apartment burning down approached, a heavy weight settled on my chest. I realized that if I wanted to make a difference back home in New York, I had to be back home in New York. It was time for me to reacquaint myself with my roots, my people, and the city that had shaped me into who I was today. I made a vow to myself that I would start taking the time to make regular visits, using whatever resources I could to travel back to the city that never sleeps. Upon arriving in New York, I immediately reached out to Christian and Thunder, two close friends who had always had my back. Together, we decided to head to a karaoke bar, a place where Christian and I could do what we did best – sing our hearts out. The moment we stepped into that dimly lit room, I could feel the familiar energy of the city coursing through my veins. The anticipation of grabbing that microphone and pouring my soul into song was nearly overwhelming. As I stood in that small, private room, surrounded by friends who knew me inside and out, I felt a sense of freedom that had been missing from my life for quite some time. The moment I grasped the microphone and began to belt out the lyrics, it was as if all the stress and pain I had been carrying simply evaporated into thin air. I was home, and my soul was on fire. The room filled with the raw, unfiltered sound of our voices, a potent reminder of why I had gotten into the industry, to begin with. As the night wore on, I couldn’t help but notice how music had taken a backseat to the idea of fame in my life. I had become so consumed with chasing success that I had forgotten the very essence of what had ignited my passion in the first place – the music itself. Each time it was my turn to take the mic, I could feel the energy in the room shift. My voice soared, wowing everyone present and fueling my ego. I was becoming drunk all over again, intoxicated not just by the liquor coursing through my veins, but also by the ego boost that came from being the center of attention.
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