The Risks…

To me, the risks taste sweeter than the rewards.

6-3-2013, when asked about fears and doubts.

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July 19th 2014

We waited for hours…outside of a place we already had entry to. We waited for a DJ who would later show up short of two hours BEFORE closing time. We didn’t wait until then to go inside and do what we do best though…scroll down and follow me.

Fabal and crew wall


In the meantime, during the DJ’s absence, we did what every group of ambitious, confident artists do…we kicked off a cypher. Though it seemed to have lasted a moment, I had been beat-boxing for several minutes as the group members enjoyed spittin’ from the top of their heads. Even the security were bobbin’ their heads. We rehearsed and rehearsed, we greeted each guest that arrived and we socialized/networked. I’d say we were making this performance very personal.

Fabal Curt Ants

We were finally inside after paying our dues and yet, no sign of the DJ at the time. So Tory Law plugged in his Macbook and played some jams he had on hand. Most of our crowd stayed within their groups while we acted as social butterflies having to go around talking to everybody who made the time to come out and show their support. With Midnight nearby, I spoke to the group and together we discussed our frustrations regarding the delay in our planned performance. After much encouragement, I decided I had to just kick-start the scene. I approached Tory, and told him just to play the showtape he created so that no more time would go to waste.

Before I knew what was happening, the situation changed. Suddenly everybody from the crowd stood up from their seats, the security and staff watched and listened closely and StayXX$oul (the crew I’m a part of) turned up as I began screamin’ ‘Mic check’ into the microphone. Then my first song from my setlist actually started to play. Everything went by so fast I hardly even remember how I actually did. I watch the videos over and over again but I can’t believe I did what I did; it’s amazing. Even though the microphones were constantly defecting out and one side of the speakers kept cutting in and out, we still rocked the show like we ran the joint; without a DJ present.

Fabal and Angelie

Angelie Nicole and I got to perform our fans’ favorite ‘Secret Lover’ for the first time ever. The last time we were together for that song was in the studio recording it back in 2012; what an honor it was. She was amazing and charismatic while I played the hype man until my verses were up. The crowd really loved us and we loved them right back!

Fabal and crew selfie

After the show, we decided to capture this rare moment in our early careers because all of us haven’t been gathered together like this EVER. This was the first time but not our last and we are all still in full anticipation of our next gig/reunion. Everyone who touched the mic and stepped foot on the stage floor, owned the night. I am proud to have been a part of this moment in our history. We learned a lot about ourselves and about preparation, it’s unfortunate certain things had to happen in order to finally be educated but it’s all part of growing up. One day we get to look back at this and say to ourselves ‘July 19th back in 2014 was the moment our momentum took its giant leap forward’. Until next time, stay with me.


Fabal and crew

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What Compels you?

What compels us? What is it that draws us to one another? What is it that creates a foundation of fascination in our minds?

Could it be the presentation of our current situation and/or the visualization of that “selfie” you took on our vacation?

Maybe it’s the display of one’s strength/happiness in their own photos or words, no matter how descriptive or bleak, during that particular situation that captures our interest. Maybe it’s not so much the location, in which the person is posing for us, but instead the fact that it’s that person who got the chance to be there. Yet sometimes, a person does not have to be anywhere exotic to draw our gaze. Maybe it’s the mystery surrounding that individual? “She’s in a bathroom…why do I even like this picture of her?” Try again. “She’s in a bathroom…what’s the story behind her choice to take this picture in there?” Bingo! It’s all about story!

Still, what makes a story so compelling? Words can have an impact but visuals through media can penetrate; like a hook piercing through our wonders and curiosities. Do we have to be able to see everything someone goes through? There are before and after pictures but what about the during pictures? There are never any because the other two answer that old, obvious and inevitable question…you know which one I’m talking about right?

It’s almost like, people want the scoop on how you got where you are summarized in one sentence. “What’s your secret?” or “How did this happen?” Our answer is usually one sentence long. The moment we get into detail, it becomes a story; an epic journey to our transformation. Now a days, people don’t want to be told the formula, they just want to know how it happened/how it worked. Unless you showed it, then suddenly the level of their interest of your process peaks.

So again, what compels us? Is it the visual or the story? What if the “after” needs a little more time? Can we still instill that feeling of being captivated by one’s success story or the aftermath their defeat if we haven’t anything to visually show for it?
Have we become too impatient, forgetful, or too easily distracted? Irrelevance, or maybe I mean to say becoming irrelevant, can feel like an atom bomb exploding on top of the structure of the progress we’ve made.

So what compels you? Tell me your story.

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Dear Loyal Fans,

I hope you’ll excuse me for taking sort of long to write you. I had been in the studio this entire week except Tuesday (since I had to work late) and I’m returning again tonight. It’s been so incredible! I’ve been able to successfully get my album completely recorded however, I’ve been looking at my work from a different perspective and…I’m going back in there to rehash a few verses. The vision calls for a change and I know just where to apply it.

Now, I don’t want you guys to think I’m being overly critical on myself, I simply just want to give my best delivery EVER. The takes I have so far have shown my growth but now I understand I have to display that and more; I must highlight my ability to entertain you. I mean, in a sense music is a form of entertainment, right? In my journey to put myself on the board, I had almost forgotten that significance.

So I’m nearly finished (I know I’ve said that a lot) with this project and I couldn’t be more excited to show you guys what I’ve been up to! Last night in the studio, I met some really great artists. Two of them Tory Law, my producer and long time friend, had already known for a while but as we blasted our music into the surrounding neighborhood, two new faces approached; we invited them in and discovered they too have a love for making music. Even though my stomach was suffering from the combination of hot wings and an epic burrito, beers, freestyling, and even discussion of politics definitely contributed to the amazing atmosphere each of us constructed. When we got to recording, I got reminded that this is what I was born to do and also that we’re all one team with one dream. I even wrote a verse right then and there to record. I’ll provide the link to it once it’s leaked!

The stage is next, so…stay with me.

-The Faballistic One

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Why is it when I feel closer to reaching my goal, another goal intrudes and obstructs my pathway?

Why is it when I gather my thoughts, they can’t ever seem to focus?

Repetition with the hope of change, is deemed insane. There has to be some form of change in order to see new results.

I’ve been told to chase my dream no matter what; to give it my all and nothing short of it.

It’s funny…when I had just about given up on this dream a few years ago, it kept showing up to taunt me. It was as if my dream was chasing me…hunting me like wildlife in its daily, repetitive lifestyle.

With the roles now switched, as I close in on my dreams, more pressing matters seem to surface and pull my head down into a quicksand. What am I supposed to do?

The question seems rhetorical since I don’t receive an answer. It’s tough going it alone…I’ve developed backbone but this weight on my head is making it harder for me to rise.

Still I give it my all and nothing short of it. I love this dream too much to give up on it; I’m too addicted to quit.

Still I wonder…am I doomed to repeatedly to get shoved off my momentum, of which keeps me sprinting toward my freedom from this struggle? It feels like, I’m crossing this worn bridge that hangs hundreds of feet above a dark abyss, and as I try to reach the other side I keep having to dodge spears and rocks being thrown at me at a random rate of fire; not to mention there’s chunks missing from this bridge.

With each projectile hurled at my head, torso and feet, I am forced to slow down and constantly dodge them; while getting clipped by them more than a couple times.

I duck my head…I bob and weave…and even though my destination is in sight…I can’t help but feel like I’m too wounded to enjoy it when I’m finally there. I even feel like the constant attack won’t cease when I step foot onto it.

I fear it won’t even be what I had prepared for. You know what though? I’ve come too far and pushed too much to survive the journey back home…this is all I have left; with whatever is left of me.

The upside is that I am indeed closer…closer than I’d ever been. I may sinking now but ‘now’ isn’t synonymous with forever. 

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Writing is Tough

It’s hard finding the right words to say.

In person, I almost feel like there’s less pressure involved in what I’m about to say and/or how I’m about to say it in comparison to what I write. I shake sometimes, it’s weird. I tremble with my writing because people believe that when a lyricist writes, he automatically knows what to write and how to word it all easily.

This isn’t the case for me because when I express myself, I don’t see it as an artform even though others may disagree with this. I think it’s their opinion of what my words mean that makes my expression art. You see, I just put my thoughts on the table like a deck of cards spread out and face up; it’s the people, my followers, that take them make a game.

The right words don’t come easily to me but I express them none the less. It’s just hard finding the right ones to use when I’m taking everyone’s opinions into consideration. Today this could be a rant, it could be random or it could be interesting. In the future this could be philosophical, it could be sentimental or it could be inspirational. Either way, it was hard to find the right words to use when writing all of this. :P I write them to furthur my ultimate goal…connect with you all.

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For My Mystique

I miss you…

Those three words are just as sharp as razors, bouncing around my emotions.
Where I had found love, I found myself.
Where I had lost time, I regained my happiness.
Where I had found trouble, adventure reemerged.
Where I had lost peace, I discovered a new hope.
Though we both said goodbye, we didn’t say let go…so…
Remember me.
I won’t forget the smile I constantly, consistently, irresistibly, and insistently painted across your glowing, youthful face.
Those eyes do more than characterize, they paralyze…and being trapped inside of them was a blessing in itself.

And that body? Don’t get me started…already thinking naughty, hardly possess enough vocabulary to describe it, partly due to the fact when I held you……it was like holding the golden ticket to a factory of unconditional, everlasting affection…passion…and a desire beyond the intensity of a wildfire. In fact, it would make that wildfire extinguish down to a mild-fire.

Even words of compliment, memories of paradise, and thoughts theoretical pain me to say aloud or hold inside. I would sing our song proudly if it didn’t remind me of that moment when I sang to you that verse of the perfect interpretation of my infatuation.

You are my match; together our hearts ignite.

There wasn’t a hunt, just a gathering.
There wasn’t a chase, just an engagement.
Never question where we could have gone or who we could have been.
That time will come sooner than we could ever anticipate.
All of this and more…is what stings the most when I say…

I miss you.

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My Love…

I hear my love’s voice and suddenly I’m motivated; to write, to take charge, to lift and lift and climb and hold on. My love has always carried me to a euphoric state of a mental utopia after I was knocked down by judemental misunderstandings or sheered hatred. My love can weigh my eyes with tears as easily as she can cement my mind with concreted joy; playing on my emotions as if they were an orchestra. With my love, we demolish the barrier between reality and fantasy on a daily basis. With her voice in my ears, together my love and I have journeyed far; across ground, through air and atop the sea. My love does not judge me for she is my expression, my sorrow, my happiness, my life. She’s had as many identities as she’s had many lovers but is known by one common name. My heart belongs to Music…and she is my love.

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