A letter to Malcolm ‘Mac Miller’ McCormick: Goodbye, drugs f*ckin suck
Your music saved my life but drugs took yours and that fucking sucks…
Why didn’t anyone help you? There were so many signs in your music. This whole time you were telling us that you needed help, trying to overdose with the Holy Ghost and all. Why weren’t we listening closely or were we right there with you the entire time?
Still, how could we have known that your soul would be raptured away before its expiration date? You seemed ok in the interviews, even after the surprise break-up with Ariana and the close call car crash, but like Kehlani said, “check on your friends even the strong funny ones.”
You can’t tell us, now, what was truly behind those green glass irides. That’s the most painful. That we’ll never know what was really going on in that oddly shaped head of yours.
We can go back to the music, which is probably what you would want us to do, but it hurts to listen to you. Every one of your well thought out syllables hits my eardrums harder than before.
It’s not the same.
Listening to Swimming makes no sense to me because there will be no more “new” music after this album. The vibe that I get, now, when I listen to your tunes, is the same feeling you get after finding your favorite shaped cloud in the sky, hoping that it’ll keep form, and knowing that it’s going to disappear anyway.
It’s strange to see the hip-hop universe talk about you in an unfamiliar tense. Come to think of it you helped a lot of rappers during their come-ups. Because of you, Joey’s life was changed, Ferg found his daily bread, and Chance went on tour.
I dont know what to say Mac Miller took me on my second tour ever. But beyond helping me launch my career he was one of the sweetest guys I ever knew. Great man. I loved him for real. Im completely broken. God bless him.
— Chance The Rapper (@chancetherapper) September 7, 2018
We came up together, being the same age and all. It felt like it was yesterday that I was putting people on to “Kool-Aid & Frozen Pizza.” During those days everyone was excited for you — “Who’s this young bai on this Lord Finesse beat,” they would question.
Son, you were hip to da game at that time and you didn’t even know it. So, carefree at that time. You remember that EZ MAC type steeze you had back then. Who the fuck was Mac Miller? That guy who could care less about what people thought…
It’s like you are still here, but you’re, just, not. Going through life without your music will be just like watching the movies with the sound off. I hate this feeling and this emptiness.
But it’s not your fault, Malcolm. It’s ours.
We stood by on the sidelines as you spiraled and that doesn’t make us good fans or friends. It’s like, when will we learn to recognize when a person is about to go Delusional Thomas?
This shit is not cool anymore. All of us need to learn how to identify our own and each other’s demons, kill them, and not allow them to manifest. No matter what the substance is or the mental issue…Fuck!
My b, I got upset for a second…
At the end of the day, Malcolm you are, musically, the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you will be missed by more than just me. You’ll be missed by the whole world.
You were the MOST DOPE and they’ll never make a more realer Mr. Miller.
Live on homie,
p.s. – I hope TreeJ is okay…