Album Review: Sean Nicholas Savage - Flamingo

You have been spinning around your apartment for the past week trying not to forget, not only that the love of your life has moved to middle Canada, nonplussed, but also that even if you meet someone TODAY, five minutes from this lung-numbingly unneccesary breathe taking moment of existence, you will be unable to fuck them for at leaaast two years, that is how fucking damaged you feel.  You don't want to forget these things because your whole fucking life has been one fucking chainé from disaster to monumental disaster, learning nothing, ruining everything. Today you pass out for a "nap", unshowered, barely clothed, at 12:20 in the afternoon listening to the blissfully optimistic album "In Rainbows" by the popular and undisputed positive juggernaut electronic ambient ensemble, Radiohead.  

Your mom texts you that she thinks your beautiful, which, oh perfecto, So aesthetically, your mom thinks your still spot on, however, your personality though, which you have been told since fucking birth is THE ONLY PART OF YOU THAT MATTERS fucking sux, you silly little, bitchy little, dumb girl.

You get off the couch and decide to eat and slash or find some different music.  You find this really "great" song.  His name is Sean, and he takes you to this sultry, this sexy little seventies elevator with velvet curtains. 

You begin to touch yourself as the elevator ascends, loving yourself in public like no man has ever loved you before.  You find parts of your private that roll waves out of all the water in your body, you're liquid all over from that moment on, moved only by the moon and this pretty boy, Mr. Savage, and his voice. 

There are purple and gold tassels everywhere, swaying to the beat as a whiff of a fruity SPF passes you by.  It's summer out there somewhere, you care barely, you will get back to the temporary flux of the seasons after this temporary influx of seratonin moving motion. The elevator continues to soar. 

You wonder if this unexpected oasis in your day will ever stop, but stop wondering because the song never stops, the elevator never stops,  and I don't know if you end up showering in the end. 

I showered. 

Standing in T&T, face to face with Jenny.

.....the saddest cashier in the world.  

Even when shit is falling apart, everything is still pretty peachy keen. I am not an optimist, just to be perfectly clear. I have taken a pointed, cold-hearted gaze at the facts and come to the conclusion that.... I do NOT need to panic, I repeat, I do NOT NEED TO FUCKING PANIC SO CAAALLLLM DOWN BUDS!

At the end of the day, every person that I allowed, yes, that I ALLOWWWWWED to demolish the fragile little kittykat sized balls of emotions that are my privates/heart....... They have all been really,really great guys.  Super nice, considerate, etcetcetctetctetctetctetperfectetcetcetcetcsooperdooperetcetcetcetkindetcconsiderateetcnotabusiveetcetcetcetce.... So I suppose even if 100% of the romantic relationship pies I have partaken in have FAILED......
 FAILURE! Gahahahahaha.

What was I talking about? I can't remember. I think I am actually going to close up shop for the summer though, no more sexy pie time, no more friendly pie time, no more mother fudging, dickin around, text me text me stop texting me for weeks text me text me texty pie bullshit.  Just regular mid day pool, worry about my zinc intake, lay down on the grass and feel the ants bullshit.  

Because, at the veeeerry end of the day, when you are huddled up in your bed alone, listening to valtari as the dying city lights twinkle outside of your window, your crotch twitching and your mind racing, somewhere out in the world there are at least # people that have known you, and liked you considerably, and also consciously chosen to live their life in a parallel universe away from you and your private.