Beyonce’s Lemonade ruined my relationship with my roommate
An apology is in order
The surprise release of the life changing visual album is old news by now. In the Beyhive (the name lovingly bestowed on Beyonce’s overly-enthusiastic fans), it’s practically been ages since LEMONADE dropped over a week ago.
Since last Sunday there have been full-out brawls debating who the mysterious side-chick “Becky with the good hair” is— popularly turning heads toward Rachel Roy after having a suspiciously close relationship with Jay-Z and posting a taunting photo on Instagram aimed directly toward Beyonce immediately following the release.
Beyond the drama of the adultery scandal however, an even more pressing conflict has arisen: My roommate has expressed her disapproval and concern regarding my very explicit music selection in our dorm recently. I have decided this conflict deserves to be addressed publicly and so I disclose the following.
My lovely roommate and I prior to our fateful fallout
To my roommate,
I am very deeply sorry that I haven’t been able to bring myself to blast anything other than Queen Bey’s most recent work of art on high for the past week and a half. I know you appreciate her music— nay, her magic— an acceptable enough amount. I know we both expected this obsession to fade a tad faster. And I know that I promised I would stop using your pillow to cry into when her shear artistry and raw emotion becomes too much for me to handle.
But every promise don’t work out that way and it’s absolutely impossible for me to let this album become just another forgotten gem, left in the depths of my iTunes next to the Avril Lavigne and Hillary Duff tracks from my tweenage years (it’s practically sacrilegious to just mention the possibility).
You see, Lemonade is different than the others. Lemonade is in it for the long haul. Lemonade won’t leave you. Lemonade won’t hurt you. Lemonade will always be there. Lemonade is heart wrenchingly beautiful and perfect for any and everybody in any and every situation.
Feeling angry? Yell along with Don’t Hurt Yourself.
Feeling proud? Strut to Sorry.
Feeling cynical? Sing with Daddy Lessons.
Feeling heartbroken? Cry to Sandcastles.
Feeling motivated? March with Freedom.
Feeling powerful? Dance to Formation.
Feeling in the need of something monumental? Listen to the whole damn thing.
So as you can clearly see, roommate, Lemonade is far more than “just an album that I really need to turn down because you’re trying to sleep.” And for that, I ain’t sorry. I ain’t sorry. I ain’t sorry. No— no hell naw. And I would very much appreciate if you would stop interrupting my grinding (you interrupting my grinding).
Very sincerely,
The roommate with far superior music taste.