Hey DeeJay why don’t you orchestrate me a song. I can’t seem to find the words that I want to externalize from my head. Fill the air with the emotion that floods my soul. Read me a story that is played out on the turntables of life. Do it smooth though. I want you to become the remedy so that turning the stations never the option. execute an atmosphere where the words of my life just climb off the sheet music and hit the airwaves of understanding. Give me the rock of exaggeration. The novelty of uncontrollable joy. The outlaw of devotion. Why don’t you just go on and mix me tape.
Hey DeeJay I am trusting you with the words of my life. I need you to exemplify what I am trying to say. All the pain and passion that is locked away behind slipmats of liveliness and expiration. In the litany of the this world, people often forget the jubilant art of making music. An instrumental composition that speaks the volumes of the heart. I want to believe that the dulcet of life can just be explained away in a melody. A melody of love, a chord of inflection. I want everyone to be able to understand the vitality of my life lies in the mix tape of my DeeJay. One who understands me. Who can narrate me and direct me as He see fit. One who can lay the tune down and show that the tablature of my life comes from you Mr. DeeJay; I want them to understand that my interface package belongs to you. I want more than a mixtape, I want the whole record deal. I know somewhere down deep you have placed an ability for me to chase my dreams of the music in which I listen. I know that somewhere along the lines that there will be ASCAP, billboards, and one day maybe Kappa Kappa Psi. But, until that day which I am mature producer as you are director, I just have to settle with the pink or purple label on the case. So, will you help me produce a mix tape.
There are so many instruments out here in the world today that I don’t even know where to start. I always knew that i wanted a Fender Stratt but had been beating on discovery by first act. I just knew, Mr.DeeJay, that my music wasn’t matching my tune. I had to get in the right process, although it would take me sometime. I was busy listening for the rhythm but i didn’t have the correct thing I needed. I thought that a pluck-it pal would work in place of the tuning hammer, or that I could skip the process of tuning the middle octave and matching the strings.
How was I ever going to get to Sydney when I just couldn’t get up  of the Bronx. I always thought Mr.Deejay that my way was cool. That winning the popularity fan vote would get me the best reviews. But, you would step in and show me I was wrong. You will show me that it isn’t the reviews of siffle sniffle that I should be concerned with. But, producing and aerating a beautiful work that I would get the attention of the Polar Music award in which Mr.DeeJay is how I happened upon you. When I finally removes the weight and scales from my eyes, and you taught the beauty that lies within a crazy mixed taped. One full of passion and joy, hurt and pain, love and forbearance that I could reconstruct the very being of that mixed version and wrap it all up into one. One that children after children would share with the kids, and the story would never go silent.
For you and you alone Mr.DeeJay have composed a mix tape that would hang on a wall for generation after generation. A record that has been tried through the process of life, gained the courage and knowledge of expression, and the feel good of love. And, by doing so you have created a record that is so amazing in love with you as it is spread, that you can see yourself inside of it as you see your reflection of it on the wall. And, Mr.DeeJay you saving a burned down, lackluster production and made it worth listening to. Thank you for all that you have done. I am glad that one day long ago that deciding to have you as my mix master  was the greatest of all achievements in my life. I cant wait to see where the record deal goes next.
Prompt courtesy of Mix Tape



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