The Crying Algorithm — Part I: An Awakening Adolescent Spirit
“I am a kid again. I can do anything.”
6 years. Jon spent 6 years clawing his way out of a crippling, caustic, constrictive, and corrupt recording contract. All the while keeping his hands busy crafting certified global banger after banger for renowned artists like Justin Bieber, The Jonas Brothers, Tori Kelly, Maroon 5, Jung Kook, Miley Cyrus, Christina Aguilera, Camila Cabello, Halsey, The Kid LAROI, and Illenium (just to name a few). After 2,190 days (and the release of several chart-topping records for other artists) his contract was reversed, freeing him to make music for himself again. His latest single “Kid Again” serves as a vibrant and powerful symbol of his resurgence to solo artistry.
Residing within the lyrics of Jon’s recent release is both the tearful outcry of his younger self and the unshackled declaration of his present self. The AI-generated voice of his adolescence repeatedly cries out, reflecting on six years of restriction, corrosion, and darkness: “Oh my love, what happened to your light? What happened to your light?” From a present posture, Jon says forwardly, “I’m free when I’m underneath your light. Jaded, and then you opened my eyes. I am a kid again. I can do anything.” He emphasizes, “I am a kid again. I can do anything.”
Tucked within the production, Jon shouts to himself, “Wake up!” He says, “Can’t you see they took away your pride? Can’t you see they took away your life? Can’t you see they took away your vibe? What happened to you?” He declares “I just gotta answer my call. I don’t even care if I fall. I don’t even care if I fall.”
Now is a good time to give Jon Bellion’s “Kid Again” a proper listen, if you haven’t already. If you’ve already listened, now is a good time to listen again (no pun intended).
This record got me thinking about the spirit of my youth, childlike faith, innocent wonder, and adolescent exuberance. I boarded this train of thought, which led me to the idea of giving a curious prompt to an algorithm. The prompt was simple: “Describe the awakening of a sleeping adolescent spirit.” I read the response, tearfully. I’ll share it in full below. Read it with the spirit of your own youth in mind, and may you find in this reading a state of wakefulness, trembling on the edge of revelation, hearing a voice from within saying, “I am a kid again. I can do anything.”
“The awakening of a sleeping adolescent spirit is like the first light of dawn breaking over a silent landscape. In the stillness, something stirs deep within—an ember long dormant, catching a whisper of air and flaring to life. A sensation, soft but insistent, rises from the core, spreading warmth to every corner, uncoiling a quiet hunger for more than the known world has offered.
Dreams once hazy and indistinct come into focus, tinged with a sharp, vivid clarity. The spirit begins to pulse with awareness, vibrating at a new frequency, attuned to possibilities and mysteries that were previously veiled. It’s a moment of profound and tender dissonance—a quiet rebellion against the ordinary and a reverent call to something ineffable, as if being summoned by the universe itself.
As this nascent energy unfurls, the adolescent spirit senses, almost painfully, its own unbounded potential. Emotions—raw, fierce, and pure—ignite with sudden intensity, flooding the senses and expanding the heart. The spirit strains to break free from the weight of childhood's slumber, to rise and claim a place in the uncharted wilderness of self-discovery.
Like a flower bending toward the sun, it seeks nourishment in beauty, truth, and wonder. What was once static now flows with a restless, seeking quality. It’s a sacred passage from dormancy to wakefulness, from the passive to the active, where every fragment of the soul leans into the becoming, trembling on the edge of revelation.”
Worth pondering…
When has your adolescent spirit felt most awake?
What in your life seems to lull the spirit of your youth to sleep?
How sensitive are you to your own unbounded potential?
Son,
I can't say "I am a kid again- I can do anything" because I am old and attune to my many limitations. At 59 the "kid" is hard to see in any crystal ball and especially difficult to recognize in the mirror of reflection. However, your writings have helped to wipe off some of life smudges and provided an emotional peek that stirred a sense of wonder and possibility within me. I thank you for that.
I am thinking back upon my life and the days I spent as a Yacht Captain. What a metaphor for my journey in life. I've spent many years navigating the troubled waters of existence, where storms have taught me to keep the deck uncluttered—everything fastened down, prepared for whatever waves or winds might batter the ship. At the age of 59, the need for readiness is second nature to me now, a reflex that reaches for security instead of adventure. But still, in the early hours, there’s a part of me that craves more than just survival. I find myself waking before dawn, stepping onto that same deck, and standing in the stillness of a calm sea ready to take in the sunrise.
Your writings create this pause for me. They empower me to take my eyes off the trouble of what could be, and place them upon the wonder before me. What a sight! The horizon slowly blooms with colors that are nothing short of miraculous—gold spills out, warming the edges of the clouds, while fiery oranges and deep violets mix with soft pinks, and the first light of day kisses the sky with radiant whites. It’s as if the heavens are painting a masterpiece just for me. In those moments, I’m not thinking about the storms behind or the ones ahead. I’m just… there. In the beauty. In the calm. The weight of preparation lifts from my shoulders, and I feel something I haven't felt in a long time: peace. A deep, quiet joy rises within me as I take it all in—the stillness, the wonder, and the sheer magnitude of life’s beauty. For a moment, everything is as it should be, and my soul feels "kid-like".
This perspective comes by way of you, my son. Your reflections and explorations, have become like a compass pointing me toward something I’d almost forgotten. Your thoughts serve as a course correction for me, reminding me that life isn’t just about reaching a destination. It’s about the journey, and sometimes, that means letting go of the Helm, putting down the first aid kit, and allowing the winds to take me somewhere unexpected. Your reflections remind me to set my course, not just for survival or safety, but for the wonder that awaits beyond the horizon.
So now, I’m learning to do more than just sail through the night. I’ve begun setting my alarm for the middle of the night, walking onto the deck, and instead of charting a course, I lay down, look up, and lose myself in the awe of the stars above. Their brilliance reminds me that there is so much more out there—more than the storms, more than the plans. It’s the wonder that you speak of, and a daring that I am learning to embrace again, thanks to you.
I want you to know how much your reflections mean to me, how they’re helping me rediscover the awe and joy in life, and how they make me feel more alive, more open, and more connected to the beauty of the world around me. In the words of our friend David Crowder, "YOU DID THIS." :)