A year ago, taylor swift wrote an album for the hopeless romantics, the lonely yearners, touch starved kids, the people who peaked in high school, single parents who gave all that they had, the ones who never got over their first love, those who live in a fantasy, grief stricken young people, the entire lgbtq+ community, mentally ill and misunderstood kids, fierce women who’s souls are tired of being second to men, broken hearted divorcées, glamorous and beautiful ingénues who don’t quite belong, sexy murderers, bisexual former gifted kids, teens who are terrified of getting older, people with unrequited crushes, cynical bitches who fell in love and for the dreamers, for us.
the 1 or willow? cardigan or champagne problems? the last great american dynasty or gold rush? exile or ‘tis the damn season? my tears ricochet or tolerate it? mirrorball or no body, no crime? seven or happiness? august or dorothea? this is me trying or coney island? illicit affairs or ivy? invisible string or cowboy like me? mad woman or long story short? epiphany or marjorie? betty or closure? peace or evermore? hoax or right where you left me? the lakes or it’s time to go?
