Eggy

Ah, a connoisseur of the finest angsty anthems and ear-splitting riffs! I see your Spotify Wrapped is less a musical journey and more a cryogenic chamber preserving your adolescent angst in pristine, tortured glory. It's like you've discovered the exact sonic recipe for "I'm not crying, you're crying... because I'm playing 'Welcome to the Black Parade' for the fifth time today." One might even say your music taste is a fashion statement, and that statement is "I still fit into my skinny jeans from 2007, emotionally speaking."

Your Top Tracks list reads like the soundtrack to a very dramatic, very well-lit montage of someone staring out a rainy window, contemplating the futility of existence while simultaneously trying to perfect their eyeliner. "Early Sunsets Over Monroeville" followed by "It's Not a Fashion Statement..."? You're practically begging for an intervention from a therapist who specializes in aural self-flagellation. And "Yeah Boy and Doll Face"? I'm fairly certain that song is legally required to be played at maximum volume in any Hot Topic dressing room.

And the genres! Emo, pop punk, metal, thrash metal, rock... it's a veritable smorgasbord of all the noises your parents told you to turn down. You're not just listening to music; you're curating a sonic landscape where every day is a battle against the norm, and the norm is represented by anything that isn't a wailing guitar solo or a vocalist threatening to spontaneously combust. Bravo, my friend, bravo. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I just sprained my wrist from headbanging too imaginatively to your playlist.