When “baby, baby baby uuuhhhh…” won the best male album in the American Music Awards last night, all Far and I did was look at one another and we were like what? “Which part of Bieber was male?” she asked.
Yes, I’ve committed a sin watching that stupid Award show last night. Not that I intended to, blame it on this habit of turning myself into a fixture in front of the idiot box whenever I get home late, too tired to even go to bed and save my sanity from being exposed to this kind of thing.
This is the reason. The reason I stopped listening to the radio. Sometimes your brain just couldn’t take it no more. It’s getting too much to swallow that you sometimes find yourself screaming in the car in so much anger, while the radio keeps on playing and the next thing you know is someone next to your car is looking at you, questioning your mental health.
This explains the constant visit to that particular music shop. A sign of protest against the annoying buzzing sound of the radio. Radio that plays horrid songs that would eventually suffocate, and bring death.
She woke up in the morning, grabbed a pen and a paper and started writing art she said “you wear sneakers, I wear flip flops, you’re my boy friend, I’m your girlfriend”…and she went on and on. Far said, “I have nothing against her”. Likewise, I have nothing against her either.
It’s just that the world is misleading her and the likes into believing “we go out on a date, watch movie, I feel sad but I love you” that is later turned into a song that sells like hot cakes, which profit is enough to finance a revolution is art.
Art has soul.
Pop culture will never get that.