In the months following my abdication from the forum, I have lived the simple life. Plucking the slender strings of a banjo while on a solemn journey through eastern Appalachia. However, in my time away, the old dream began to whisper to me. The dream to be a pretentious hick.
Now, most people aspire to either be a hick or to be pretentious, but the melding of the two is seldom seen. The dancing of galaxies, space, and time has told me that I am to be the One. The Premier Pretentious Hick, or the Elusive Hill Yuppie. Then, I am reminded my cataclysmic failure… that the very sight of Blemish resurrects the normie deep within my soul. It’s mere mention, like the whispers of death itself, aggravates my heart to the point where I’m not sure whether to run or cry and accept my fate.
How does one simply listen to Blemish? Is there a certain path of Sylvian albums that will let me hike up the mountain of pretention rather than trying to leap to its peak in a single bound?