Heatwave Love

Heart broken because we could not make it here, but I’m still happy, I’ll be waiting patiently your words said “Let’s Meet In Heaven”

🎉❤️😘

I’m PJ. Boston is in my blood, the harbor in my breath, the ocean always tugging at me like it knows my name. I grew up with salt on my skin and a restless beat in my chest. My mornings taste like cappuccino, my nights taste like wings with friends and conversations that keep you awake long after the streets go quiet. I am the roar of a Red Sox crowd and the hush of winter ice when the Bruins take the rink.

Music isn’t something I do, it’s where I live. Every verse is a breadcrumb, every chord a confession. My songs come from rain-slick streets, from nights I should’ve slept through, from the kind of love that leaves marks. I don’t hide the cracks, I show them. That’s where light gets in.

This blog is where I let it breathe. I post what I love, raw and unfiltered. I reblog images that stop time, words that cut, melodies that pull you under. Every repost is a quiet I see you. I feel this too. I’m soft without being fragile, fierce without shouting, the spark in a crowded room and the hush after a confession.

If you’re here, you already stepped into my world.This isn’t just posts, it’s a pulse. My pulse. If you feel it, even for a second, we’re already tied by something louder than music.

We cut Fai Impazzire after crushin’ some good food and way too much wine. Music’s just like sex, ya know? The more times you been at it, the looser you get, the braver you get, and suddenly you’re tryin’ new shit. When it hits right, you just keep pushin’ it further. That night we were buzzed up and Sofia was free, no filter, no walls. You can hear it clear in the track. When I wrapped the recording I was losin’ my damn mind, never thought that kinda fire would come outta such a quiet girl. That voice? Straight killer. But don’t just take my word, hit play. Even if you don’t catch the Italian, the vibe’s gonna grab you.