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In this episode, I explore what happens when you let your younger self speak without interference—when you refuse to edit, improve, or apologize for who you were.
Drawing from my 1996 handwritten journals, written as a nineteen-year-old immigrant in Florida, I discuss how those carefully crafted words became the lyrics for "Pop A Pill"—a track that bridges three decades without compromise.
This isn't about nostalgia or revival. It's about genuine dialogue across time, made possible by one rule: use the archive exactly as you find it, or don't use it at all.
Topics covered:
Full lyrics to "Pop A Pill" included in the essay.
Links:
By Gary CrosseyIn this episode, I explore what happens when you let your younger self speak without interference—when you refuse to edit, improve, or apologize for who you were.
Drawing from my 1996 handwritten journals, written as a nineteen-year-old immigrant in Florida, I discuss how those carefully crafted words became the lyrics for "Pop A Pill"—a track that bridges three decades without compromise.
This isn't about nostalgia or revival. It's about genuine dialogue across time, made possible by one rule: use the archive exactly as you find it, or don't use it at all.
Topics covered:
Full lyrics to "Pop A Pill" included in the essay.
Links: