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Honey it's hotter than an expired trimspa pill spinning at the bottom of a dried up Nile and no one has the wherewithal to psychoanalyze their perceived mental breakdowns or unpack some alt lit rag and so let's agree to not even try. This summer is about idiosyncrasy. And we don't mean dressing quirky and  communing over plastic-cupped frozen watermelon drinks at a garage in Bushwick then calling that art. No, that aesthetic has ravished even the most elemental hope. Rather, turn off the voices on your phone that pervert your agency, step away or step up to all the trash that makes you unique. Internally we mean. So all that violence, paranoia, pleasure, judgement, anger, self loathing, all those fan fav human qualities, we’re not suppressing anymore. Let's get down and get human again. You’ve been offended to hell and back, riding on the coattails of some latent microaggression they forced on you back at the ol uni. and let's be honest, it just sucks to be Reveling around with all that fake weight. So park that moped, whip out a book, and find the most obscure nature trail north of Fort Tilden. You don’t have to fall in line. We know you're tired of trying to. And even if you do try to hide your unkind and natural truth, trust me, your idiosyncratic qualities are showing.  



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