New Chapters | The Daily Listening


422 is a special number. Today is a special day.

Today marks the launch of my very own music site, The Daily Listening. I’ve always wanted something of my own like this. I’ve been writing for two other music sites and though I’m lucky enough to have creative freedom for both, this is my baby. 422 was my grandparents’ old address in Brooklyn. Whenever my family and I see 422 anywhere – whether it be license plates, buses, lottery numbers, etc – we know my grandparents are with us. So it was only natural that I chose today, April 22, as TDL’s official launch date.

The birth of this site came from a long, hard 2014 and quite frankly, being fed up with looking for a job where I can use my writing skills effectively while engaging with others in the process. If you’ll take the time to do a thorough search, you’ll find over a million music blogs out in the webosphere. Naturally, this would have startled me into oblivion. I would have said, “There’s enough noise. I’m not adding to it.” But after realizing my potential and looking over everything I have accomplished over the past 3 1/2 years, I decided to go for it.

The most popular music blogs out today were birthed from one music enthusiast who had a burning desire to write about what they wanted, when they wanted, how they wanted. The depressing task of applying for music journalism jobs was weighing heavy on them, and with zero feedback or shiny prospects to get excited about, there came a time to put matters into their own hands. Some wasted billions of dollars for a college degree that took them nowhere while some, sans degree, fought with the masses who were stupid enough to fall for a job in “journalism” where writing articles about Coachella fashion was more important than the bands that were actually playing. No disrespect to fashion bloggers, but we see right through you.

I am so excited to start this new journey. I never imagined I’d actually get to do this, and now that it is finally happening, it all seems a bit surreal. I’m excited to cultivate a new community of music enthusiasts who genuinely care about the music rather than the scene. I wanted to create a place where music journalism isn’t viewed as “the devil” by artists and where unnecessary harsh criticism is cast out of the equation.

Only God knows where this new chapter will take me, but from down here, it looks pretty promising.

Looking Forward


In the midst of the pain
I’m still looking forward
I want the long car rides,
music playing and stories shared.
Your hand on the wheel,
the other on my knee.
I want to know the relief of knowing you’re mine.
You’ve never been anyone else’s and neither have I.


Choose Me



Please don’t ever stop dreaming.
Don’t ever lose sight of the sky and how the stars spell out our story for miles.
Don’t ever stop living for the future.
Don’t lose sight of what God has given us.

Choose faith.
Choose love.
Choose home.

Choose us.

Waiting Game


The four most asked questions in life are comprised of one word and a multitude of cryptic answers:




…and most importantly, when?

Why is this happening right now? Because God has an intricate plan that we will never be able to decipher. As a perfectionist, and an all-around lover of being in the know, this frustrates me. Handing off all of my burdens to something a decade ago I thought was out to get me is terrifying. The past five years have been like an awakening of sorts; the learning, the seeing, the knowing, the believing – they’re all a part of the journey of faith I never imagined I’d belong to. As I progress in my process of learning to trust, I feel freer. Then, something happens where I have to hold on even tighter while letting go, trusting that He has it covered and that this is only a small part of the story. I’m a wreck, but I refuse to let it drag me down like the previous times. Why is this happening? I’m guessing because it has to in order for the story to progress and ultimately, unfold.

How will this ever come to fruition? I don’t know. I don’t know and I will never know until the day it happens. How will this ever work out? I don’t know. How could He let this happen? He has a plan. I just wish He wasn’t so secretive all the time. How will I ever get through this? The same as I got through the other five times, only this time with more trust and prayer…because I am tired of worrying about the how. How will it happen? I just don’t know.

Where will this take place? Where can I go to find peace? Where should I be when and if it happens? Am I in the right place? All signs point to yes. At this point, I don’t care where it happens, just as long as it happens.

When? The big one. Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year? Five years from now? Or did I miss my chance? When is this going to make sense? When can I breathe that sigh of relief I’ve been holding in for the past five years? When can I sleep through the night knowing that all has come to pass and everything isn’t in limbo? When can I not have to live with my stomach in knots, afraid of what I might see or not see? When is this going to happen?

Because you know what?

I’ve been patient. I’ve been good. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’ve come a long way.

I’ve cried. I’ve died a thousand times. I’ve listened to every album. I’ve spotted every sign. I’ve grown accustomed to the silence and I’ve written down every line.

How much more of this do I have to endure before I shatter?

When, God? When?

La La Land


I’ve loved this way for so long,
I’m not sure how I’ll deal if you really came to me.
The ghost of you lingers on my fingertips.
For one second, I held everything I’ve ever wanted in my hands.
Your presence hovers over this city we both call home,
but you’re stuck in a bubble,
and I’m not sure you’ll ever find your way out.

Who are you?
Who am I holding on to?
Will he love me the way I am?
Will I love him after all that’s been hidden?

There is a man from my dreams that resembles you.
He lights up my eyes and puts a smile on my face.
He looks at me as if I put the stars in the sky and the word “love” in the dictionary.
He marvels at my patience and scowls at how long he’s made me wait.
He holds me like I’ll disappear if he lets go.
He never wastes a kiss and hooks his fingers around mine.
But when I wake, it is only me and the salty shame of tears first thing in the morning.

I’m tired of ghosts and I’m tired of waiting.
I’m tired of seeing the same type of girl on your arm and I’m tired of worrying.
I hand it all over to the Lord, asking Him what made Him think I could handle this.
Maybe I’m the one in La La Land,
while you’re the one living.