The inside of my head is just filled with shards of broken glass and white noise screaming atm, but listening to Phangs for the first time is an experience. It doesn’t feel like I wrote it.
Primarily because it actually sounds good and my knee jerk reaction against that is “but you wrote it ergo it’s actually shit, you heinous imposter”.
But no, actually, it’s weirdly pleasant to hear someone else reading my words, and it sounds....yeah. Good. I don’t hate it.
Miracles do happen, it would seem.













