One day, I will become Sean Paul. Like, my face and skin will morph into his face and skin. I will shorten and fatten. My hair won’t exist, but one morning, “a tomahawk?” Further I’ll sink into the Earth. Rain dirty on my matter. Becoming one with the exchange of chemical and physical being. Bring on the shots and the weed. I’m really from Florida, birthed by third-gen Asian-Cubano refugees. They “saw bombs.” Gimme all the cheese. Fucking melt the cheese. Corn rows? Boil them ears and butter that cob, ‘cause Ima feast. These emails, yo. Sean Paul getting all these emails. Fuck!
I’m “Other Side of Love.” I could sing to house beats; 128bpm; turn that off; I could boogie to this; it’s not funny anymore; when did you think this was cool; at what moment did you consider “cool” to still be a thing; can we fuck; am I married? “I once saw Kurt Vonnegut Jr. speak at OSU and say, ‘Semi-colons are for pretentious assholes.’” I say that at every BBQ, yet the attendees are under that literature-age mark in society/culture/generation/[slash]. And then I’m dying. I have cancer, but pretend it’s the Sci-Fi Channel. Yo, that “Booty” wonder on America’s Got Talent. Boston Bomber. Anders Breivik. That one guy who killed a kid. Topics. Things to talk about. I am a person of the world. Becoming Sean Paul will make me human for an eternity.
“[Sean Paul’s] forthcoming as-yet-untitled sixth studio album, due out later this year on Atlantic/VP Records. The song was co-produced by Benny Blanco and The Cataracs and the video was directed by Jon J.” This video was sent randomly to my e-mail. Why?