made this a while ago, felt like uploading

flashpoint

a goodbye

This piece began as a reflection on age, wonder, and the universe. It carries the bittersweet truth that some of us may not live to see the answers we’ve always longed for the moment the sky finally “answers back.”

But it’s also a message of hope. Our place isn’t measured only by lifetimes. It’s carried forward in the songs we write, in the questions we refuse to let go of, and in the wonder we pass down.

The closing nod to Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star reminds us that curiosity is timeless from the child’s lullaby to the elder’s last reflection, we are joined by a shared yearning to understand.

This isn’t just about stars. It’s about legacy, belonging, and the truth that even if we don’t grow into tomorrow ourselves, a part of us will.

Some of us are too late in the day
To see the gates swing open
To watch the sky answer back

But we’ve left our fingerprints
On the glass of the telescope
Our breath fogging the lens
For the next set of eyes

The truth is our place
Isn’t just measured in lifetimes
It’s carried forward in songs
In questions that refuse to die
In the wonder we hand down

So even if I don’t grow into that tomorrow
A part of me will
In the echoes, in the chords
In the starlight that remembers
We once asked

Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are

Oh, how we wonder

Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star
How I wonder what you are

Oh how we wonder
What you are

Yes we wonder

Footnote to the Stars

Y’all

Bennie & Kay

It Is What It Is

Crying, Laughing, Loving, Lying

Modafinil

Breathe.

Counting beats, chasing rituals, controlling the uncontrollable. "Bipolar Controller" is the fight inside your own mind.
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LYRICS:
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Darkened ghosts are moving 
In the shadows of my head  
I’m chasing down the rhythm 
Of the words I never said  

No chemicals
No wires
Just rituals and fire  
Balancing on tightropes 
Strung a thousand meters high

Damn the rain  
That falls down  
Inside my brain  

Wish it could  
Take away  
And cool my pain  

But it won't  
So I cry  
To release  
All these scars  
That I've built  
That won't heal  
They're like scabs  
On my skin  
That won't leave  

They build up  
Till it's time  
For goodbye  
Well unless I ride  

In the train  
That won't stop  
Till I heal  
And it's called-
The Bipolar Controller  

Breathing like a metronome
Counting in the dark  
Every beat a tether line
Every thought a spark  

I dance against the spiral
I bargain with the night  
I’m programming my chaos 
Till the patterns come out [wrong]

That falls down  
Inside my brain  

Wish it could  
Take away  
And cool my pain  

The floor becomes my dose of medicine  
The strobe becomes my fractured guide  
A Saturday repeating like confession  
Keeps the storm a step outside  

The sweat rewrites the script that binds me  
The sound becomes the voice I need  
My body finds a fragile freedom  
In the ritual of routine 

Controller… Controller…  
Hands shake
Mind takes over  

Controller… Controller…  
I won’t drown
I’m the operator  

Switch flips 
Controller in my grip  
Switch flips 
But I still make it stick  

Switch flips 
Controller in my grip  
Switch flips 
But I still make it

BIPOLAR 
CONTROLLER 

-------------

BIPOLAR CONTROLLER

a dark, introspective interpretation of Elton John's, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" - a reflection on choices, regret, and the cost of chasing artificiality and false illusions in our modern world. 
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LYRICS:
------
When are you gonna come down?
When are you going to land?
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man

You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you

I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing
The blues, ah 

So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl

You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owls
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh, I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

Ah, ah
Ah, ah

What do you think you'll do then?
I bet they'll shoot down the plane
It'll take you a couple of vodka and tonics
To set you on your feet again

Maybe you'll get a replacement
There's plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain't got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you
On the ground, ah

So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl

You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owls
Hunting the horny back toad

Oh, I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

Ah, ah
Ah, ah

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THE LAST YELLOW ROAD

Flower is a song by Amos Lee that always moved me because of how honest and simple it is. In this version, I wanted to keep that feeling but also make it my own.

I recorded it with acoustic guitar, harmonica, and organ — keeping it intimate and real. It’s not about copying, it’s about singing it from who I am.
Every word I sang believing what the song says: that love, even through fear or loneliness, is still a real force.

Bennie & Kay

glaive