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Ryan Adams released his promised remake of Taylor Swift’s 1989 this week. It’s a quiet, incredibly thought-out reinterpretation that feels as full of reverence for the original as nostalgia of the time period that album title refers. It’s also kind of a dadzbop record; an album that will appeal to people who don’t want to listen to Taylor Swift because she’s a pop artist and not a sensitive white dude strumming a guitar.

But it is lovely to listen to and it’s a pretty great gesture for an artist of Ryan Adam’s stature to not only embrace Swift’s album but want to make loving interpretation of it. It’s also a little disheartening how many push against the idea of it happening.

Album remakes in and of itself are a curious case. Using another’s art as inspiration to create a unique response to said art shouldn’t be a bad thing. In the 50s and 60s, Black artists would remake songs of their white counterparts and vice versa, but a lot of that was due to the segregation of radio. Music is a genre with a lot of political baggage and in the case of Ryan Adams and Taylor Swift (and also the business of writing about music on the internet), the politics are inescapable. In the age of poptimism and the sweeping popularity for non-white male centered music, a thing like Ryan Adam’s “1989” feels not only like stepping backwards but fuels (however unintentional) these ideas about authenticity and real artistry in music.

One need only to look at recent essays from both the NY Times and The Washington Post, to see dismissive and condescending attitudes towards pop music but especially the way in which pop music has become a critical darling as opposed to the butt of many a serious music writer’s jokes. As this pop adoration continues, the vocal dissenters continue to push back; part of this push back usually consists of speaking up in favor of rock music, which usually involves the idea that rock is the thing that is pure and real in a world of what they see as artificial, plastic music.

There is a classist attitude in all of this that Ryan Adams both benefits and earns demerits from. So when the album finally came out, on twitter, you could see people incredibly excited to listen to it and you could also see people who felt the need to protect the artistry of Taylor Swift. Divorcing the politics of music from the actual music is a difficult task and, in this scenario, is close to impossible to do.

It also should be noted that Taylor’s status as a woman in popular culture and Ryan Adam’s maleness and the maleness of his music are also at play. There’s certainly sexism on display if not because of this record than around it, but a great deal of it seems to be people reacting to sexism they assume is probably happening but haven’t seen. Does it exist? Probably, but for the most part the only people who are obsessing over “what this record means” are people who write for a living.

Cover songs at their best are love letters to our favorite songs or musical moments. At their worst, they’re cheap cash-ins and, at their worser, they are goofs or attempts at irony. This is the sword with which rap music has been the most speared, but a lot of pop and electronic music has been smited in this way. The acoustic song version of a pop song was once a popular pastime for going viral and has rarely ever been done with any sincerity or love for the original song. Sure, you might get an Afghan Whigs cover of an R&B song that actually feels well-arranged and performed by people who actually listen to those songs, but a good amount of these covers are goofs meant to poke fun at the silliness of a pop record while upholding the status quo of true artistry.

Ryan Adams’ “1989” works because it is both been blessed by Taylor Swift and is made by someone who loves her music. If you like this Ryan Adams record, it’s because you like Ryan Adams but it’s also because you like Taylor Swift’s music. You can’t divorce the two things because the album doesn’t allow you to, even if you would rather find comfort in the familiar blanket of quiet, emotionally charged Replacement-era vibes. You can run from poptimism if you’d like but pop music cannot be escaped or abandoned. All of your faves probably owe a lot to popular artists anyways, Ryan Adams just had the awareness to hat tip and show his appreciation.

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The pope is in Washington, D.C. at the time of writing this. The streets of DC are chaotic, packed and noisy. The metro is a warzone where nobody can reasonably hope to make it to the other side unscathed. There’s also a baseball game later today and just the general aggravation of working in the city and dealing with people. Washington, D.C. is hell (sorry pope!) and I am here for it.

The idea of a city destroying itself because of too many events planned all on one day is so tantalizing and, if you’ve watched summer movies and television shows long enough, you probably feel the same. This is the stuff destruction porn is made out of: an intense, unruly event that destroys the fabric of a major American city. What if people protest the pope? What if the Nationals lose tonight? What if these two groups find each other and take out their frustrations on each other causing a new civil war on the streets of D.C.. I mean, might as well right, the red line isn’t gonna show up for 30 minutes anyways.

And you just know all those people stuck in that train station forever will eventually go crazy. Just like Animal Farm, they will create a new civilization that is built on fairness for every man until somebody decides that someone needs to be in charge, which eventually devolves into everyone thinking they deserve to be in charge. This then leads to nobody trusting anybody and everybody plotting to murder everyone else in order to accept their place in the top of the food chain. Of course, there’s enough time for all of this to escalate quickly, because there still won’t be a fucking train anywhere in sight while this takes place.

The pope of course would try to end the violence, but he is partly responsible for the state of affairs happening. He must reconcile his responsibility while proving he can still make it right in the end. Along with Barack Obama and his arsenal of quippy, inappropriate one-liners, the pope will fight through the rubble and malevolence to save the city.

Also The Rock will be there in a rescue chopper saving his family and throwing up the deuces and a middle finger to everyone else because the fuck you thought this was? Rated R. Let chaos reign.

Drake and Future have been teasing the idea of a joint mixtape for awhile but, like any promise of a joint tape, it was mostly disregarded as a fan service-y tease. Then it was announced that there was indeed a record that had been put together that was expected to be released soon. Despite this, there was a feeling that this album was just a troll and that it wouldn’t actually come out; there was even a countdown website for it that froze once it got to 6 seconds and never materialized into anything. It was starting to look like a sure bet that this record wasn’t going to happen and a not-insignificant number of people were pretty ok with that. But then Sunday night happened and Drake premiered songs from the album on his Beats1 radio show OVOsound. So now we have an album: What A Time To Be Alive; an album that I’ve listened to about 4 times now that I’m mostly pleased to announce is pretty good.

Part of this favorable feeling has to do with the fact that I came in with low expectations. Future is on a tear right now: since October 2014 he’s released 3 great mixtapes and a great album but better than that is he’s actually being appreciated for them while they are happening. He’s been the wave for 2015 and Drake, like his true mentor Jay Z, was absolutely guaranteed to find a way to surf along it. Drake is the biggest star in the game right now, possibly more so than Kanye, and (possibly as a result) is also the biggest opportunist. Jumping on hot songs or potentially hot songs or songs he wishes he had made first and “boosting” them with the Drake effect™. Who benefits more from the Drake effect is of great debate, a lot of the time though it feels like a platform to promote Drake as relevant while another artists gets as much shine as they can before the crowds disperse.

With that being said, the most pleasant surprise about this album is that this album is mostly on Future’s terms. Metro Boomin is a co-producer on all but one song and Future takes the lead on the majority of songs. On most Drake-featured songs, everyone is just an opening act for Drake but here Future gets to be Batman while Drake plays… well not Robin but, I don’t know Catwoman or something. The album is better for it and goes on to further prove that nobody is seeing Future and his reliable cast of producers, particularly Metro Boomin. So with that said, let’s rank these songs:

1   Jumpman

This is the one. This is the crash your car into a tree on purpose because the drugs made you do it record. CHICKEN WINGS AND FRIES, WE DON’T GO ON DATES; come on son. Fuck your candlelight dinner and your Netflix and chill, you better come get this 5 dollar box from Popeye’s with me. Future is the star of this tape sometimes, seemingly, by design and the album does its best to keep up with his energy and his sound. Metro Boomin showed out all over this record and on this song, Drake has his best “trying to keep up with Future’s energy” performance here. This is the soundtrack to Actavis suicide.

2.   Diamonds Dancing

This is probably my personal favorite song on the record and I’m kind of a little bit ashamed of this fact. Out of all the songs on this record, this feels the most on Drake’s terms –mostly, in that, this is his crocodile tears beta man song about whatever girl pissed him off by being independent this week. But, once again, Metro helps put together something really special for this record and Future is one of my favorites at melding introspective sensitivity and greasy aggression. The Drake tirade at the end should bump this down a few spots but somehow it doesn’t; this is his best performance on the album honestly. He’s in his comfort zone, plus him and Future get to harmonize on the chorus like fucking Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton on this shit. It can’t lose.

3.   I’m The Plug

“I’m The Plug” is such a good Future song and I wish Drake wasn’t on it. But sure go ahead Drizzy tell us about how you’re really the plug. Like really. I mean that’s what all those Paulie from Goodfellas tracksuits were about right?

4.   Scholarships

Drake probably paid for so many stripper’s degrees. I mean it’s a good thing; education is important. Speaking of which:

5.   Plastic Bag

Come on, you didn’t think you were getting a Drake and Future album without a strip club ballad. You know, something to serenade your favorite dancer with at the booty club of your choosing. Let her know it’s a good night to dance on you. You gonna go broke by the time this song is over and it’s only like 4 minutes long. It’s all good though, she deserves it. “Magic City on a Monday/We worship there like a Sunday” needs to be framed somewhere in your home immediately.

6.   Jersey

This is the solo Future joint and he’s in full-victory lap mode. “You do what you want when you poppin”, you damn right bruh! Talk yo shit! Future has had an incredible run this year and plenty has been said about the fact. I wasn’t in love with Honest but I felt like it’s outright dismissal was pretty unfair. This attitude served as solid motivation for him though and look where we’re at now. He really did catch the wave.

7.   Change Locations

“Me and my friends we got money to spend”

8.   Digital Dash

The albums hits the gas right from jump, making you already second guess your fear about this album coming to fruition. That’s hot takeish sure but we live in the age of the instant reaction, which, if it’s done nothing else good, it’s at least caused an influx of good album intros. “I might take Quentin to Follies” is peak-troll Drake by the way, that guy is adorable sometimes.

9.   Big Rings

I’m not a fan of Drake’s chorus but whatever. It’ll be fun to scream out whilst drunk in the club spending money you can’t afford to be spending. We blowing the whole rent check at the strip club for our tings. Sidenote: “You just a battle rapper, I’m an official trapper”, who’s that for Future? Because I know of a particular battle rapper right now who seems to be having a misunderstanding with your album partner  right now. Are you choosing sides bruh? Being a little bit of a shady boots or nah?

10.   Live From The Gutter

Honestly, this would be higher but I enjoy the Young Thug version of this Metro beat more.

Future’s good on it too though and also lol at Drake being on a song called “Live From The Gutter”. Get your authenticity points like Pokemon my guy.

11.   30 For 30

This is the Drake solo song. It’s fine. Drake does his Drake thing that he’s been doing for long enough that it barely even registers with me much anymore. It’s all just… fine. He’s the Alabama Crimson Tide quarterback of rap.

And that’s it. Something that could’ve been awful turned out alright. However you feel about these two artists, they provided for a fun night on the internet that will probably go on for at least the rest of the week. Thank God for Metro Boomin, and, despite all the players in this, somehow one of the biggest winners in this whole thing will probably be Ernest Baker. What a time to be alive indeed.

The Music Video Sartorialist is a new column in which I will review the fashion of various music videos. First up: the 2000 masterpiece “Country Grammar” by Nelly.

Before we even get into this, let me just say that the music video for “Country Grammar” is pure love. There is not one bad thing I can say about it. It’s a celebration of everyday people and it is joyful, which is way better than being cool or weird for the sake of weird. Also, as a nigga from Tallahassee, FL, it absolutely appeals to my heart to see country and ratchet folks taking part in a celebratory occasion. Nelly put on for his city here and, if you from the country or really the south period, you can’t help but see your own home in this video.

Now on to the fashion:

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You’re gonna see Nelly put on a lot for his city through jerseys in the video because throwback jerseys were everything in the 2000s. You got the biggest sizes that were still attuned to your body and you got the matching hat and shoes and you were the dopest nigga at whatever party you went to. One thing about this I don’t want you to lose sight of though is that behind Nelly is a plethora of grade-A, quality birds. I mean the type of birds that are specific to your city and were always dressed in a way that was just trashy enough. It is a true high-wire act pulling off a quality hoefit and these women were scientists. God bless them.

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I mean look at em: Charlie’s Hoodrats ready to save the day. The Hoochie Justice League. The woman up front is especially noteworthy because she’s wearing a dinner napkin as a shirt and it is fantastic. The gold is shimmering against her body and she’s got the shades to go with it because she ain’t checking for you, nigga.

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Nelly is committed to showing out for every St. Louis sport in this video. Here he has an immaculate St. Louis Blues hockey sweater with the matching hat that has his name on the back which, again, so perfect for that time period. The video girl in this scene keeps it simple with the tank and the bandana round her head like she 2pac. She seems to be waring a collar around her neck. The accessories here are pretty great: Nelly’s wrist is covered in an almost irresponsible amount of diamonds and this woman’s collar gives off a hint of danger to her, like she might be down for some wild shit and you will have no say in the manner. Of course that could just be me revealing more about myself than necessary. And don’t think I don’t notice that this is happening in a rims shop, one of my favorite former set pieces of old music videos.

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Everything I could say about these jeans have already been said: https://twitter.com/Sixfever/status/634062109953888256

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The fellas to the left are wearing Vashon jerseys, as in Vashon High School in St. Louis, Missouri. That’s some real deal representing. That’s on some 2015 hypebeast kid at a music festival streetwear moves. “Country Grammar” really is ahead of its time.

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This guy is just everything. This is who I wanna be: the older dude who brings the grill to the block parties and the HBCU tailgates. He’s dressed like a Que that pledged 20 years ago. He’s got the pink apron, the baggy, military-like coat with the “hata blocka” shades on and, my nigga, look at all that damn hot sauce. Everything is lit.

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Speaking of life goals, here are some fatherhood goals. Not only is my mans shining with the Big Daddy Kane jewelry but he got himself a championship belt and a tiny championship belt for his son which is THE GODDAMN CUTEST THING EVER AND I WANT IT. BOTH THE CHILD AND THE CHAMPIONSHIP BELT FOR SAID CHILD. This is incredible parenting; as the bible says, train up a child in the way they should go.

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Here is your introduction to Vokal. If you didn’t know, Vokal was started in 97 by Nelly, his cousin Yomi Martin and Nick Loftis. Like any other fashion brand you and your friends start, they used to sell the shirts around town, particularly at concerts for Nelly’s rap group The St. Lunatics. Vokal had success because Nelly had success, which is good for them since the clothes weren’t that good. Nelly, if nothing else, was a visionary about his career and it really shouldn’t be a surprise that he blew up the way he did.

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More jerseys! Nelly’s gotta be a real sport’s nerd to rock a jersey of offensive lineman Orlando Pace. That’s some serious football fandom. Also I love that he’s wearing the jersey backwards. Football jerseys will be back in style eventually and when they are, I’ll be rocking all of mine backwards I can promise you that. And don’t think I forgot about you bruh with the Kurt Warner joint and the golden durag flyin’ high in the friendly sky, ready to save the world and get ya waves.

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My dog in the back got on picasso on the shirt with the matching durag. Jesus wept.

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Boy, that’s a shiny, shimmy ass jean jacket. That shit might blind me more than the jewelry my guy. Does your durag say “SQUAD” because I might forgive the jacket if it does.

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Is that Sean John? I bet that’s Sean John. Sean John used to make them hot ass, living carpet plush track suits like they were bout to kill the game. They did kill the game though, from dehydration from wearing those shits for too long.

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You can’t tell from this picture but if you watch the video you’ll see that dude is hitting a jig while he cuts hair, which, no. You stand perfectly still while you line my fade up fam. I’m not trying to look fucked up just because your giddy ass wanna “bounce to the beat” in front of cameras. I don’t play that shit. Another red flag, he’s get the Ne-yo fedora on. I don’t trust barbers who’s haircut I can’t see, that feels too much like a setup. Look at lil homie’s face –see the stress in his whole demeanor. He know and I’m so sorry it had to be him.

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I want this woman’s shirt on the right. It is dope, It’s colorful but not too gross or busy. So many wigs in the back by the way. I’m pretty certain I can pull off at least 3 of them.

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She got the African print turban and this orange scrambled porn pantsuit. She was tumblr before tumblr was around to appreciate her style. Please retroactively give this woman 500 million reblogs.

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Oh man here to begin. I’m almost certain homie in the middle got a burner on him. That’s the official jacket of niggas holding a piece. Homie on the left fit so big he can’t even fit his left hand through –nigga looking like hood mega man. And my dog got the fitted cap barely holding onto his bandana-covered head. T.I. stole his whole swag and I’m inconsolable. My brother on the right with the heavy jean jacket reppin one time for FUBU. YOUR RE-RENNAISSANCE WILL SOON RETURN FUBU I PROMISE.

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In the black version of “Where’s Waldo”, everybody feels like Waldo can stay wherever the fuck he at :(.

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A fanciful scarf and a Jason hockey mask even though he’s not a deranged psychopathic killer (assumedly), this is our one hipster for this music video. Also, I see you in the back with the ultimate urban fashion marker, the negro cartoon shirt.

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More urban fashion markers: the combination Jeans and Jean skirts. And they’re even ripped to immaculate perfection. We’re so fucking innovative, I can’t stand it.

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I don;t know why I’m so drawn to this woman. Something about her sequin hand towel disguised as a shirt has set off all my internal alarms and I’m turned on by it in a way that makes me ashamed of myself. The hood girl fashions in this video are all wonderful in different ways and I just know I would see this outfit on someone at the local hole in the wall club and I’d probably be drawn to her all night. Something must be matter with me. Something isn’t the matter with this video though. It is perfect and we don’t appreciate it enough.

I am growing exhausted pretending Kanye West is a genius. It is tiring having to pretend that the reason I don’t like the things he’s doing is because I don’t “get” it. I genuinely like Yeezus a lot and just that fact alone is weighs heavy on my spirit because as interesting and purposefully off-putting as it is, it is drenched in bullshit. Most of it is a temper tantrum performed over a noisy, Eyes Wide Shut-style robot orgy and yet I stand by it as better than at least two other Ye albums.

But now this nigga is going too far. You wanna sell Mad Max outfits that cost an entire year’s pay to people that are dumb enough to max out credit cards for it then that’s your right, but let’s not pretend you’re revolutionizing anything in fashion. I get that you feel like the fashion world won’t take you serious because you’re a loudmouth nigga that comes from rap and I can also understand how frustrating it is to be pigeonholed and I know that Yeezus was partially a backlash for people constantly telling you to stick to music, but your campaign to get people on your side is contrived.

You wanna start of revolution only to advance your own interests. You say classism is bigger than racism but, ignoring the fact that that’s wrong, your thesis seems entirely based on the fact that you personally are being kicked out of a club you feel like you deserve to be in. For what it’s worth, I don’t even think your Bane takes over Gotham City fashion line is that bad. I know people are getting their jokes off about it right now and I know that it’s not even that original of an aesthetic but it’s decent. If I had some a couple gold bricks, I’d buy one or two pieces up off you, and if you want to make clothes full-time I would support you –mostly because I don’t think you know what you are even doing anymore outside of the fashion world.

That VMA speech you gave was entertaining and, at some points, even truly captivating, but it was also mostly nonsense. You hate the idea behind award shows yet your entire career has been based around promoting yourself and those you deem worthy as the only true winner of every award? You built your brand off of being the vocal supporter of yourself when you felt like he didn’t get the awards you deserved; that is, until you decided to bring your services over to the Beygency™. Now you wanna back away from that and instead argue a pseudo-existential diatribe against awards and the point of these shows. First of all, the point of award shows is to celebrate mediocrity and gather a large number of stars together in order to bring in a large audience of people who are willing to sit through liquor and acne scrub ads just for the sake of firing off tweets. Secondly, this again feels like you thinking about how something affects you and then reacting. Only when you’re at the point of your career where MTV can give you a mostly meaningless honor for everything you’ve done that you can decide “eh, I don’t really get the point”.

Acceptance has never worked for Kanye West. He thrives most when he’s being dismissed or unacknowledged. Being treated like he belongs or like the genius he considers himself in his brain gets boring to him; he wants to be in those areas where he’s hated or ignored. It’s his best quality and also something that is aggravating to witness. It’s clear that he’s been bored with music for a long time: this was obvious on Yeezus when he tried to give himself the challenge of making purposefully alienating music (easily his most Lou Reed move), it’s apparent in how dismissive he’s grown of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy despite it being his most praised work to date and it’s especially apparent in the manner with which this new album cycle is going.

And that gets us to what’s really bugging me about Kanye lately. I honestly believe SWISH is a false flag operation; something to keep his brand afloat while he goes deeper into realizing his dream of being Steve Jobs. There is no album and honestly it’s better that way because what we’ve heard so far is mostly bullshit. The whole working with Paul McCartney thing was interesting and when “Only One” dropped, I thought: fine, I can get with The Freewheelin’ Kanye West if that’s what he wants. Then he performed “Wolves” in full on SNL with SIA and Vic Mensa who now looks like one of Akasha’s slaves from Queen Of The Damned since he linked with Ye, which was fine I guess but we never got the CDQ and it took forever to get the CDQ of “All Day” and now it’s been out so long that the people who were excited about it don’t even bother pretending to still like it anymore.

This brings us to today where during Kanye’s latest show at New York Fashion Week where, in the midst of the remake of Dawn Of The Dead that seemed to be happening on the runway, Kanye premiered a new song titled “Fade” featuring Ty dolla $ign and Post Malone. That’s right, Lyor Cohen’s latest lab experiment indistinguishable soundcloud rapper, Post Malone is the latest to get the Kanye co-sign. A co-sign which, let’s be honest, doesn’t mean anything anymore –not in a world where Travi$ Scott gets to thrive; a co-sign nonetheless, which is annoying mostly because we were all doing so well at not pretending Post Malone was a real thing and allowing his 15 minutes to expire.

This reeks of a desperation to keep up with whatever you think the kids are into. The only silver lining is that maybe when Kanye sticks his fangs in his neck to drain him of everything he’s got, we’ll never hear from him again like Mr. Hudson. It shouldn’t be too hard since he’s not actually talented –just like, well, Mr. Hudson. More than this egregiousness is just the fact that this song isn’t very good. I get that it was part of a show and maybe that’s not the best context to judge it in but this is really bad Abercrombie & Fitch store music put over a slightly better drum kit. It’s also a boilerplate 2015 Kanye record and it feels like he’s not even trying anymore, and I mean if you don’t wanna make music, you shouldn’t feel like you have to and if you do, you could try a little harder than this.

I genuinely want you to be happy Kanye and if fashion does that great; and if you wanna lure Vic and Travi$ out of their doghouses or caves with Hood By Air clothes in order to get them to make the music you don’t feel like doing yourself, then you know what, go for it. Just do what makes you happy Kanye or really do anything that will spare us from making more industry plant white dudes a thing.

I know you think you’re bound for better things but you aren’t. This is it for you. You’ve achieved the most success you will ever achieve in your life.

Congratulations I guess? It’s sort of an accomplishment. The next time will be going through the five stages of grief. In a misguided use of your energy, you’re going to work hard to convince yourself that the tiny voice in your head that tells you to give up on your dreams and give in to the desire to eat Rice Krispie Treats shirtless on your couch is wrong. You’ll spend a lot of time in the Denial and Bargaining stage, you’ll tell yourself that you’re one step away, one song away, one good game away, one job application away, whatever; the truth is: this is it. You are already the best that you will ever be.

You will beg God or The Universe or whoever for guidance, a blessing, a miracle or anything but it will not come. The Universe will instead tell you that you should be happy where you are. Because this is your peak.

Is it shitty? Sure. A reality check is not here to coddle you like a newborn baby, it’s here to drop you on your head and blame you for falling. Knowing that you’ve peaked is not a good feeling because you’re never happy with wherever you peaked. We’re all full of ourselves and think that we deserve better than whatever we have going on at the moment.We don’t get what we want though: we reach our ceiling and then we gather ourselves together and build a life for ourselves while we wait to die. I think it’s the waiting that kills me most.

This is your peak: late nights spent in the fetal position, condescending supervisors, a family you only kinda like and so, so much alcohol. All the liquor and drugs you will consume just to disguise the pain that comes with reaching your peak will almost certainly be the highlight of the rest of your time here. In time, you might even get married and have children; children that you can use as the totems for all of your broken dreams and wishes. You will beat them down and crush their spirit all in the hopes that they can accomplish what you never could and maybe get a house out of the deal or whatever.

I’ll be honest, I don’t feel like finishing this essay. I got no fight in my left. I’ve already peaked and none of this matters.

Sorry I’ve been staring at you awkwardly and with such intensity, it’s just that I’m in love with you.

I know we don’t know each other and you’ve never actually met me, but I know love when it hits.

I’m sorry I keep staring and examining your fingers, it’s just that I want to marry you and I need to know your ring size.

I’m sorry this is a lot and it’s way too creepy, it’s just that I want you to have my children.

Look I know this is very uncomfortable, you don’t know me and our only interaction is me staring at you on the metro train extensively, but I want to spend a couple of forevers with you.

Are you running late? I’d like to make an appointment to be your lover.

Is there anything I can do for you? I’m basically your boyfriend now.

Sorry, I don’t want to scare you away, it’s just that I can’t live without you.

That came out wrong. I don’t mean I literally cannot live without you, it’s just that I want to be around you every day for the rest of the days that I am alive.

I don’t mean to be rude or psychotic, it’s just that I need you in my life.

What are listening to? Is it R&B? I hope it’s Luther –or maybe the Isley Brothers. Sorry, I just want our song to be something special.

I don’t even know your name. I really only need the first one. I’d rather you take my last name.

I know I said I would leave you alone, it’s just that you’re my everything.

I’m sorry, I keep babbling on and on while you look terrified. This is so us.

I don’t mean to take up so much of your time, it’s just that you complete me.

I’m not trying to be forward, it’s just that I think we should grow old together.

I know this is “our first meeting”, but I would follow you to hell and back.

I’m really not trying to be this way, it’s just that I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since I saw you a few minutes ago.

You look nice today by the way. You always look perfect. I assume at least.

I’m doing too much right now, it’s just that you’re the one that I want.

Get it? Like in Grease. That would be a super cute costume idea for us to try this Halloween, wouldn’t it.

I’m sorry, this is horrifying. It’s just that when you look at me I feel like anything is possible.

This is all a lot to take in , I know this. I’m sorry. I won’t take up anymore of your time. Just know that I love you. That’s a lot, I shouldn’t have gone that far but you do make me wanna be a better man. I’ll stop bothering you. Ok. Please Marry Me. Bye. I’m sorry. Love you like XO. Ok that was too much. Bye. Love you. Bye.

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