“Will you be wearing Tuscan Leather? Or the furthest thing from Tuscan Leather? Will you raise your cup in the air, for a toast? A toast that you started from the bottom, you’re here, you made it after waiting so long? I mean, you can make this tour last forever, almost like Wu-Tang forever, which only lasts three minutes and thirty three seconds, ironically. The one night you have with him, own it, it’s yours. You can be on your best behaviour, but I’m sure he’ll want you to be on your rather, worst behaviour. From time, you’ll realize you’ve waited for this moment. He’ll soon have his closing song, and realize to yourself, “Hold on, I’m going home.” It’s as if, you never want this night to end. As if, you somewhat connect to him. There’s the language his music speaks to you, especially on that night. You’ll change the lyrics to your area code when he sings ‘305 To My City.’ There might be too much screaming, but that’s what makes it worth it, right? I mean, you’ll go home after, sit and have a pound cake and reminisce about what you just witnessed, and share your feelings with someone other than Paris, for once. Once you come thru your door steps, you’ll want to be back where it all started, when you were with him. It’s all you, all you for real, with the man himself. Nothing will be the same, including your voice.
I would formally like to introduce you,
To Would You Like A tour.”—D.D (via desseydoll)