168,000 Words

This track comes from the late-night hours when Aaron's guard comes down and honesty replaces performance. It tackles Reflecting on the 168,000+ texts and all the digital communication — wondering what was really said vs. what was really meant. The gap between connection and communication.. The lyrics get specific — "Because the realest things I've ever needed to convey" — because personal tracks on Majik's are personal for real, not performatively. The trip-hop production matches the energy of the confession. It hits melancholy and raw, in that order. Every personal track in the catalogue comes from a real moment, a real feeling, a real person. This one is no exception.

[verse 1] A hundred sixty-eight thousand texts and what did I say? Did I ever really mean it or just fill the space? Good morning, how's your day, I'm fine, I'm busy, running late A hundred sixty-eight thousand chances to communicate But how many times did I type I love you then delete? How many paragraphs at midnight ended in defeat? [chorus] A hundred sixty-eight thousand words across the wire And not a single one could set the truth on fire Like looking in your eyes and saying what I mean I wrote a novel on this phone but lived between the scenes A hundred sixty-eight thousand words and still not enough To say the simple things, the scary things, the stuff [verse 2] I got threads from years ago I'm scared to open up Ghosts in my notifications, love inside a cup That overflowed at some point and I didn't catch the spill Just kept on typing, kept on sending, like the words could heal The distance between what I feel and what I show A hundred sixty-eight thousand bridges, still so far to go [chorus] A hundred sixty-eight thousand words across the wire And not a single one could set the truth on fire Like looking in your eyes and saying what I mean I wrote a novel on this phone but lived between the scenes [bridge] Maybe I should put the phone face down Sit across from someone, let the silence make a sound Because the realest things I've ever needed to convey Don't fit in any bubble, can't be typed away The tremble in a voice, the catch before you cry None of that translates, no matter how you try [verse 3] So this is text one-sixty-eight-thousand-and-one A message to myself that says the hiding's done The next words that matter, I'll say them face to face And let the silence hold what texts could not replace [outro] Read, three-twelve AM No reply needed Just read