Dear Mr. Fisherman,

Mac,

It's been five months, it still doesn't feel real. It feels like the hiatus between albums where you'd be quiet and I wouldn't hear anything for months, and then out of nowhere a "Larry Fisherman" track would drop, and then a single or two, and your album would be here. Per usual with your albums it took me forever to get around to Swimming, I think whenever I would go into my first listen of your albums I would take my time just so that I could prepare myself to fully be immersed in the project because lets be honest, sometimes you said some depressing shit. But that depressing shit is what I connected with, the honesty, the vulnerability to just be who you are and it is what it is... That's what I needed to hear, someone else feeling the things I feel and expressing it openly, that was nearly as therapeutic for me listening as I'm sure it was for you to write. In the time between waiting I heard great things about the album and I couldn't wait to listen to it, I couldn't wait to see how you had changed and evolved from your last project as you seemed to effortlessly do with each previous album. I still remember the moment that I found out you passed away, I didn't think it was real at all. I started scouring the internet only to have the news confirmed by every source.. I've never really felt that sense of loss before involving someone who I didn't know, I was fine all day but of course later that night I ended up listening to some my favorite songs of yours and it all came out, that's the only time I can ever remember crying because someone I had never even met passed. Swimming fuckin JAMS! Your magnum opus in every form; production, raps, singing(!) all better than I've heard you do, I listened to the album and I see that you were trying to come out of whatever place you were in hence the title of the album. I never met you a day in my life but some part of me connected with you and your music and even though you're physically gone I can still feel that connection and I'm grateful that the last thing you left us with was you trying to be better, trying to swim. RIP Mac.