Omg look at me with new content…we love to see it.
When I originally sat down to write this a few weeks ago, it was solely going to be based on my amazing trip to Vegas. If you’re new here, I tend to frequent Vegas bi-monthly. It became such a habit, I even considered moving there. Still, to this day, those thoughts linger in my brain. I’m one failed talking stage away from packing up my LA life and moving. Kidding. Men ain’t shit.
Yep, you heard that correctly too, back on the man hating train. Did I ever get off? I think the train did break down for a second, but we’re up and running again. Before anyone gets entirely butthurt, I don’t HATE all men. For example, I love my dad, he’s amazing. The rest of you give me the ick. Yes, you.
ANYWAYS. Vegas really pulled me out of my shit for a second. I mean, the title of this post says it all. My little serotonin boost was short lived, however. Prozac am I right? Upon looking on the drug related subreddits, I have found that I am not the only one with a rave issue when it comes to anti-depressants. I’m faced with, do I want to be mentally stable 24/7 or have my one weekend of fun? The latter seems to be winning. It works, don’t get me wrong, my little raver heart’s content. However, my stomach? Extremely upset. I think we just got over the nausea that weekend caused me. You know how Lady Gaga says, “Bus, club, nother club, nother club, PLANE, nother club…” YEAH. Well that was us. Minus the plane. Three clubs in 24 hours. I’m ill just thinking about it. To be honest, if it wasn’t for me getting so drunk at the day club, I would have survived. However, come club three, I was realizing I can’t party like I’m 21 anymore. TRAGIC. It was still fun, though. My festie squad is back at it again. We saw three DJs we all love, and our hearts were full being under the neon lights again. I even made my friends PLUR in the hotel room. I am that bitch.
Upon leaving Vegas, the comedown of my real life hit me. That’s how I always know I need to make some serious changes. When I’m sad to go back to reality. Now, I wouldn’t say that means my life is bad, it’s quite the opposite. However, it’s definitely not Lady Gaga’s mantra every week and sometimes that shit sucks.
Festival season is now looming around the corner, and I’m faced with more real life decisions to make. I like to pregame most of my festivals by cutting out toxicity in the coming weeks. I don’t like to have my little trips at night with anything or anyone on my mind, except the music. The amount of men I have blocked before festivals is admirable. If you’re somehow reading this, I’m not sorry. You probably deserved it. Will that be happening again this year? Stay tuned, we still have a few weeks to find out. While the burden of my life this year isn’t as tragic, I’m now in therapy, you’re all welcome. I still wonder what I’ll be feeling on my drive home after. I mean inevitably I will be feeling like shit. Even my FAMILY knows how hard I go for those three days, my serotonin will be on the floor. Six feet under even. However, will I be excited to return back to my little bubble? My music filled apartment? Will I be dreading the ties I’ve severed? WHO KNOWS. I do know I will be extremely excited to bundle up with a Fall candle. It’s almost fuckboy Fall ladies. We run this shit just as much as Hot Girl Summer.
Spooky season is almost upon us as well. Finally, something that’s scarier than my own life. Which feels like it’s own American Horror Story at all times. That’s all I’ll say on the matter. Halloween and my tragic tastes in men deserve a whole post themselves. AND THEY’LL GET ONE.
Now the real stupid tea. I have been listening to the same song on repeat for three weeks. Yep, three whole weeks. Am I deranged? Probably. We all know I hyperfixate on songs, it’s nothing new. However, I think this is a whole new level for me. I mean I have it set to loop for at least an hour a day. I listened to it the whole 3 hour drive to Vegas and back. I get BUMMED when I have to pick up someone in my car because I know I’m going to have to shut that shit down. I’m a mad woman, but I’m going to tell you about it.
If you follow me, you have definitely seen me post this song. It’s called “Mistakes” by Loud Luxury. My favorites. Remember when I was obsessed with the song, “Love No More”? I may have to bring that one back honestly. Anyways, this new one is something else. I knew when they said Cat Dealers were on the track, I would be hooked. I didn’t know it would be like this. It’s about that time of year where we all need to think about our Spotify Wrapped. I already know this one is going to be my most played. It is even going to beat out The Weeknd’s new song, if that doesn’t say a lot, I don’t know what will.
To keep it brief, the song is pretty much a banger. The lyrics? Also a banger. I feel like I was attracted to the beat, and once I heard what the song was about, I was like…OOP. It’s pretty much about a guy who was seeing some girl, and she wanted to be a player, then decided later she liked him. In which case, he had to tell her that’s just another MISTAKE. Also commenting on how people like her don’t know love. It’s just too relatable, it’s kinda terrifying. I can’t say I think of a particular person when I hear the song, but that just means my taste in men is so bad that even the song BROADLY being relatable is a red flag. It’s literally so good it makes me ILL. Men in my life need to do better so I don’t feel so attached to songs about people treating people like shit. Or don’t, I need musical therapy.
Anyways, a festival is coming up in the next few weeks, which will probably be my next content creation. Unless you all want a full excerpt on how I feel about The Weeknd’s new song? It can be done. We’ll see.
As always, the song will be linked down below. I’ll leave the lyrical version for you, so you can really understand what I’m blabbing about.
‘Til next timeeeee!