I love the thing on Nadiuh's blog.

it's so true it's scary.


Anyway, I think I'm slowly , carefully, totally getting addicted to mika.

motherfuck.

Let me write a little piece on my mika feelings:

This man is revolutionary. Every song bursts with color and vibrance, his exuberance like a young boy the first time he ever fell in love, yet with dashes of deep maturity that shows how dark a past can be. He's not afraid to be everything we never wanted, but once we saw it, had to have it. (I apologise if perverted thoughts are entering your mind, like they are mine.) He's the guy who writes about real situations in a way nobody else thought of. Maybe a musical snob would hear it and go, that guy can't sing, he's too pop. Well, hate to break it to you darling, maybe pop has a little more depth than you remember. Maybe you are the way you are, because you felt it was necessary, because it's not cool to fit in anymore. Contradictions, anyone? Curly hair, pastels, songs that make you fall out of your chair, that make you smile, heck, songs that finally have a meaning, praise the muffin! In Mika's world, everybody has a place, everybody accepts each other, regardless of race, (I'm sorry I know I'm beginning to sound like the pledge) culture, sex, size, sexuality, everyone is HIMSELF OR HERSELF, a Billy Brown or a Lollipop Girl. And to think, I got all that just from about 55 minute-long album. Now that really says alot, doesn't it.


Well, That Was Satisfying.

I should study, huh.

Whatever.

Come what may.