The songs that stick with me aren’t the ones with perfect vocals or clever tricks: they’re the ones that get under my skin because I can feel they’re true.
Very often, the seed of my songs are just feelings I can’t shake. Take my song autopilot: it didn’t start as a song at all, but as a poem in my notebook:
before the desk
every morning,
my heart asks for stillness.
my arms beg not to reach.
my body says:
stay.
slow.
just a little longer.
but my mind has already
written the to-do list
before i open my eyes.
my legs obey.
i find myself at the desk
before i find myself at all.
i know i’m losing something
in this daily race:
a presence,
a pulse,
a part of me i only meet
in stillness.
and every day i wonder:
how long can i keep moving
without ever arriving in me?
This poem lived in my notes for weeks before I realized it was asking to become something else: a song that captured the tension between wanting to be and feeling like I had to move.
It became this song: autopilot.
wake up don’t think just move don’t blink heart says: wait mind says: go i’m at the desk before i’m me every day on repeat i’m at the desk before i’m me how long now till i can breathe? same song new day same steps no say body says: slow but i still go i’m at the desk before i’m me every day on repeat i’m at the desk before i’m me how long now till i can breathe? before i’m me… before i’m me… before i’m me…
I could have asked AI to spit out a hundred songs about “work” or “routine.” They might sound slick, but none of them would have captured my mornings, or the strange ache of living on repeat.
That’s what is missing in AI-generated music: real experience, real tension, genuine longing. AI can create endless songs, but it can’t write what it’s like to be you, here, now. 🤍
Thinking about this process, I wrote a guide to help you turn your own true moments into something more. What’s one feeling, poem, or story of yours that might just want to be a song?