Ink-stained pages surround the writer looking for a new thought. His eyes heavy, but the ideas come like nagging house guests. You know the type; the ones you happily invite over but love to see leave. 

Ideas, the writer thinks, aren’t always worth sharing. Sometimes he wants them hoarded. Kept in private, hidden from judgment, saved from scrutiny. Unknown and unloved, able to remain a secret amongst secrets. 

The writer wonders how many secret songs Beyoncé must keep in the vault of her mind. She has to have ideas that go unspoken, right? Even she must be unsure of their potential. But every song has potential, the writer considers. So what makes a song special? What makes a hit?

The writer thinks back to when a hit was in every car ride. When hits were always on T.V., at skating rinks, and on Billboard charts. Hits were played as ringtones, ringbacks, and voicemails. Hits were recited, repeated, and remembered. No real hit could go unacknowledged. They lived amongst the people. 

Hit songs are still among us, but they seem different now. That could be a sign of the writer’s age. Older than the demographic triggering the trends. Maybe that’s the inevitable truth awaiting the aging. They, too, become fossils like the dinosaurs before them. 

The writer thinks about endurance. Longevity is enduring the changes. Surviving the times. Being new enough to be new again. 

Admittedly, what Omeretta the Great did with “Sorry Not Sorry” felt like a return to the feeling of old, when a song moved like an instant message. Even if “Sorry Not Sorry” doesn’t last the test of time, Omeretta caused a moment that created content and commentary out of thin air.

That’s the power of a record that hits in the digital age of engagements and algorithms. Reaching and leaving the masses at speeds that weren’t possible in the days of dial-up. 

Ink-stained pages surround the writer looking for a new thought. Tonight he doesn't find one, but he hopes whoever reads this will send him the last song they thought was special enough to be a hit. “HANDSFREE” by Ace Henderson or “HELLUTALMBOUT” by Rizz Capolatti would be his picks if anyone asked him, but no one did.

by Yoh.