Make me your Dream Life

imma listen to all 3 at once. like a true fan

no no. my subconscious already did. OH FUCK

STORM BLOSSOM FTW????

Dua is the new rihanna yup n there's nothing wrong w that. oh and her collabs are great. but. oh wait. lol this is the bb thread hahahahahaha

weaTHUR VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *AIR* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANEEEEEE N TAKE AWAY MAH PAIN N PAAAAAAAINT MY BANISTERS blueeeeeeeeee hooo hooooooooo uh

wait where's the dog pic tho

Confirmed?

so. blue banisters when . . .

I c. ok nvmd

OH FUCK WAS THERE SCAT WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

say NO to gatekeeping. may 26th, flower moon

we're doin it rite then yesssssss

hope / money / off to the races but as fish, personally think vb might be more accurate. the abstractness, the nostalgia, the waiting for that one person n all that the TRIP so i'll say venice/hope / money / cruel world

SHE'S GONNA SUGAR CANE US ALL CONFIRMEDT

N TAKE AWAY MY PAIN N PAINT MY BAAAAAAHHHHHHHNISTEEEEEUUUUUUURS BLUEE HOOOOO HOOOOOOO

may 26th flower moon

i love how we're all excited despite not having any word from her or her main team so far. we need more mike dean clapbacks to keep the vibe goin sdfhdsfhsdklfhsl

god i had a really great epiphany dream n forgot what i thought about specifically but i think. she's just like one of us as a member of society and she's growing with us with her music too. so. how does everyone sort of feel rn. she's gonna talking about more domestication or something at least. banisters. partnership that's healthy? as of rite now, the album gives me post-DTWD vibes mixed with Jimmy Clay's I Can See Clearly Now. well anyway still hope the album's flirty.

fuck I love that title. gives me life is beautiful vibes mixed w some nfr

I'm ready to paint 50 days.

blue banisters makes me think of varnish, or beaches or like a cult of sexy warlock priest warriors. or jackhammers and lemonade. yeah- oh or like. giant blue jays

everytime. everytime there's a profound vacuum in this thread. I imagine myself sitting by some hillside cliff. watching the airy soup of misinfo slip us by. and before my multistep conclusion posts are thrown and dispersed into the fire I think to myself, well. those were pages well spent. but also. I look to the flower moon and her promises of may, and the banisters she'd paint. and the metaphoric bottleneck choking of this thread and how we should all be set free. where. where is the news? and if banisters, contemplative. does that mean us on the stoop like the neighborhood kids. we are just beans in a pool like that one random post. we should be free. we will. we shall. through the fog, the mist will clear. and maybe even give us glimpses of rainbows from the sun's rays. and the insiders, like baby vampire badger moles in their troughs, with treasures only they can keep, wish they can feel springtime's first kiss of sun as we do in the music. for their backs must be heavy, and their diction hazed. cheers to us banister boards. the adventure is only beginning to dawn. but until then. til. til then. we ride like drunken nomads hunting for jewels of concrete truth. til. reborn. with a new vinyl on our shelves. swooning w new fondness and bridges for our dreams.