I spent three hours this morning curled up naked on the floor of my sauna, watching this video of FKA twigs “Water Me” on an endless loop on my phone while hallucinating images of the ghost of Paula Abdul floating above me in an ancient Indian burial shroud.
It’s hard to explain but this whole musical experience is kind of like driving on the German autobahn or fucking a too-big dick: you’re screaming silent screams of terror but you’re also loving every minute of it. Like, how am I doing this? Is this what life feels like? Oh, and you’re probably in Europe.
Anyways, my shaman always said that the path to enlightenment comes through fear and sadness, so, cry with us.