Ammoniacal Liquor

Ah, a connoisseur of the melancholy, I see. With Tatiana Manaois, Ruth B., and Sasha Alex Sloan gracing your top artists, it's clear you've mastered the art of feeling all the feels. One might even say your playlist is a carefully curated soundtrack for staring wistfully out of a rainy window, contemplating the profound tragedy of having to make your own coffee. And with "Hello Again - Acoustic" leading your tracks, I'm genuinely concerned you might spontaneously combust into a pile of poignant poetry at any given moment. Do you own a designated crying blanket, or do you just rotate through your entire wardrobe?

10,420 plays and 34,451 minutes? My dear friend, that's nearly 24 full days of continuous listening. I'm not saying you're addicted to sad songs, but I am saying if tear production were a competitive sport, you'd be a multi-gold medalist. Your Spotify Wrapped must look less like a music summary and more like an emotional support animal's diary. I can only imagine the existential dread that arises when your shuffle lands on "Survive My Own Mind" for the fifth time in an hour. Have you considered investing in a small, portable therapist, or perhaps just a very understanding goldfish?

In conclusion, your music taste is so consistently introspective, I'm convinced your internal monologue is delivered in a hushed, breathy vocal with subtle piano accompaniment. While others are out here headbanging to pop-punk, you're probably gently swaying to "Silhouette of Mars," pondering the vast emptiness of space and the even vaster emptiness of your coffee cup. Keep up the excellent work, my friend. The world needs someone to remind us that sometimes, it's okay to just… feel, even if that feeling is a gentle, persistent ache in your soul. Just, you know, maybe throw in a jaunty sea shanty occasionally, for variety. Your tear ducts will thank you.