Time doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all locked in and just seeing days merge and blur. We cue up Netflix shows and now that everyone’s watched Tiger King is there any point in anything at all? I mean might as well just get three buckets for the possible ablutions and be done with, right?
Well, I like to be a bit more positive than that.
So I was thinking back to how it was only just over a year ago that Dua Lipa and St. Vincent collaborated at the Grammy Awards. You remember that right? It had a strawberry lip gloss essence and the world seemed perfect if just for a few vital moments. We could have handed them the keys to the kingdom right then and just been their slaves. Driving around getting them whatever they wanted. It would have been a type of freedom. Just living in the amber-haze vape-stream of whatever the fuck they felt like doing. Listening only to their music. Listening. But not really listening.
But instead we had to push ahead with Late Stage Capitalism (which – I know, I know – is exactly what brought us the duet between Dua Lipa and St. Vincent, but shhhhhh!) and now we’re all locked in our houses in our bubbles thinking about shitting in buckets and contemplating re-watching F*R*I*E*N*D*S in different language/subtitle combos.
The world could have belonged to Annie Clark (aka St. Vincent) and Dua Lipa (aka Dua Lipa) and we would have all still had jobs and fresh air and plenty to watch without going stir-crazy. But instead, we carried on acting like MANIACS! WE BLEW IT UP! AH, DAMN US! GOD DAMN US ALL TO HELL!
This concludes my review.
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