I promise to love you better, just give me some time to make some time.
When Frank Ocean sings, I listen. But when Lonny Breaux writes, something else happens. Waves of a new consciousness envelope me and suffocate my ability to comprehend how all of these perfectly constructed words can take on a life of their own.
Nostalgia, Ultra was the soundtrack to an entire summer of searching. It played in constant loop as I went on journeys I assumed would lead to finding myself post-college graduation. I never really knew if I was coming, going, settling or growing, but hearing those songs will always bring me back to a time of fleeting fear and freedom, a place I am sure someone on the brink of revealing their sexuality frequents.
I had no idea who Frank Ocean was personally, I knew nothing of his personal story, but I knew I loved him and I knew I would continue to love him song after song, track after track. I knew one mixtape in, that he would always be my Nostalgia, Ultra.