Boyhood Dream by Sir Jon Lee

It has been said, that when You Die You Have 7 Minutes of Brain Activity Left, Which Is Your Brain Playing Back Memories In A Dream Sequence

I went away for a little while. When I came back home, I wasn’t thinking about music. I didn’t quit, I just had no recollection of any plans to do music. I was focused on myself. I got this good ass job, I got rid of my car and got a bus pass. All I did was go to work, go to therapy, go on these crazy long walks. I watched movies, shows, and listened to Prince. I got in the habit of not using my phone. I was isolated, I didn’t talk to friends. Solitude. I wasn’t trying to be some high art type trying to make himself uncomfortable to get inspired. It was a difficult time. What got me curious about making music again was going to the listening party for the Harriet album. I heard a song that I helped put together for that album. I really didn’t remember being that decent at production. People started asking for beats. I was very overwhelmed. Overstimulation. I really wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know where to start. Plus, the majority of my sounds and equipment were stolen out of my storage unit. One day I got curious and started listening to the music I had on my computer. There wasn’t much. There was one folder. It had about 9 songs and a few beats in it, with session files. Shit was nuts. It scared me, but the songs were good. Most were in finished form. The wildest thing is, I didn’t remember making them songs. I knew I made them though. So I'm hearing some shit I made for the first time. Scary. I got back in touch with a good friend. She asked me to put some beats together for some artists she was working with. I scrambled to put something together, I didn't have all of my shit, so I was using a lot of stock sounds. I figured it out. But the pandemic happened. At the top of it, nobody was really working on or putting out music. Eventually, I got inspired to write and I started recording. What's peculiar is I hadn’t written or recorded a song in a year and some months. But I was better at it. My voice. My breathing. The writing. The ideas. It scares me, because in my time away from it, I hadn’t done anything to get better. I was just taking care of myself.

I remember being very sick as a child. I had really bad asthma. The worst case. from the ages of 4 to 11, my address was Long Beach Memorial Miller Children's Hospital. The ICU was my bedroom. I met a lot of sick kids. Some roommates, some in the recreational room. Every kid talked about what they wanted to do when they went home. Our goals were very short term. A lot of terminally ill kids. A lot of them never got to go home. A few didn't get to see the next day.

My worst day was October 12, 1998. I took my last breath. At that moment, although I was only 9 years old, I felt the regret of not living a full life. Then I felt the strongest sense of peace that I have ever felt. Everything slowed down, everything I heard faded away. Without my eyes closing, everything was black, then nothing. Nothing isn't darkness, it's something else. It's the space between falling asleep then dreaming. It's like sleeping without dreams. Then I was awake again. I was in my apartment complex, Keith Village. There were kids playing. I joined in with them.We laughed as we rode our bikes.I didn’t know them, I never got their names, I don’t remember our conversations. I start to feel a shortness of breath. Then I saw the door of my apartment open. No one was there. Then I heard my mom call my name. I went to the door. As I walked through the door, my eyes opened. All I could see was white. I looked at my hands. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I tried to talk, all that came out was a mumble. Then I felt something in my throat. I felt pain on my left side. My wrists stung with a coldness. That's when I saw a man in a purple shirt sitting next to me. It was my dad. He put his hand on mine. He said, “it’s okay man, I got you. I'm here.” I had been in a coma for 9 days.

I was intubated. I had a chest tube on my left side to drain fluid from my lungs. I was told that my lungs collapsed/burst. I had IVs everywhere. a catheter. I couldn't move. I overheard the doctor saying, “he’s not out of the water yet, he has staph infection and he likely won't make it”. My mom always tells me the story of how our family pastor, Pastor Lee, visited me and looked frightened. He said, “God has got something special planned for this boy.” I survived. I had to learn how to walk and write again.
Finishing this album, I'd reminisce. I thought about those kids who never got to go home. I thought about what the pastor said. I remember my last thoughts before I took my last breath. It's so simple. I got to make friends. I was on the school basketball team. I got to experience Cartoon Network and UPN. I got to watch music videos on VH1, BET & MTV. The Internet. Myspace, U-MAD.NET, AIM, Sidekicks, Chirp Phones. I fell in love. I traveled. I had the greatest friends. The Best parents. Amazing siblings. Wonderful neighbors. Even when I take account of all the terrible things that I experienced. I have no complaints. Life has truly been a dream.

Sir Jon Lee, is an Artist, Producer from Compton California. Sir Jon is known for his cinematic production, relatable and forward-thinking lyrics, and in the pocket delivery. He has worked alongside and produced for, Ill Camille, Damani Nkosi, Daniel Curtis Lee, Ron Avant, Kaye Fox, Just Liv. Starting with his debut EP

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