I was lowk expecting ts to be better than the wifiskeleton cover, but he lowk cooked 😭✌️

It’s always been just 🧡him🧡 and 💜me💜 together.

Thinking about that time where in school karaoke club some random kid suggested this song

atlas my beloved I really hope we don’t break up but it’s inevitable

"Oh, it's not cocaine idiot. We're snorting time."

I wonder what snorting stardust would feel like? I’ll put that on the bucket list.

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bo en - my time

Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl

Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl (From "I Saw the TV Glow")

Kimi Wa Dekinai Ko (feat. Hatsune Miku)

Bury Me At Makeout Creek

First Love/Late Spring

Puberty 2

Once More to See You

Francis Forever

Your Best American Girl

Be the Cowboy

Washing Machine Heart

Me and My Husband

Nobody

Strawberry Blond - Mitski

Papa Cremp

Teenage Girl

Liquid Smooth - Mitski

Bag Of Bones - Mitski

Mitski Mitski ~ Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

Sometimes, Mitski feels life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” she says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have after I die, so I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will shine love long after she’s gone. That’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land.

“This is my most American album,” she says. The music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. Sonically Mitski’s most epic and wise album, the songs introduce wounds and then actively heal them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like light from a distant star.

It's full of the ache of the grown-up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything and everyone is crying out in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning and then rejecting us. To love this place, this earth, this America, this body takes work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Me and My Husband

Mitski

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