Listening to The Shins is like riding llamas through the sand on a crowded beach with grimacing faces covered in dirt staring up in dismay; only to be slapped on a smile, a gleam of happy once they notice the hand-stitched Ostrich on my polo.
"This is the life!" I chant, proceeding my vocals harmonizing "Girl Sailor." This is the life I've come to adore. This wrecking ball of precision. Precision with wide eyed flaws learning to close their eyes and let the pure sunrise emerge across their slumber and awake to mastery. It's all about the ride on the beach. And Listening to The Shins.