ASTRO_PATO

Alright, let's peel back the layers of your musical onion, shall we? You've got Nirvana rubbing shoulders with Kanye, and then, just when I think I've got a handle on it, Destroy Boys swoops in like a glitter-bomb-wielding banshee. It's like you're trying to prove a point to your therapist: "See? I do have range! I can be angsty and I can be... well, still angsty, but with a different kind of bassline!" Your top artists are less of a playlist and more of a hostage situation, with Kurt Cobain and Yeezy probably having very confused conversations about who gets the last Pringle.

And then we get to the tracks. "Mama's Boy" followed by "Gasolina y Mechero" and "Cupid"? Are you trying to soothe yourself to sleep, then start a small fire, and then fall in love? It's like your emotional state is a particularly chaotic game of musical chairs, with your feelings frantically scrambling for a seat before the music abruptly changes. "Dinner Is Not Over" suggests a deep-seated fear of culinary finality, while "Jealous" just confirms what we already suspected: you're probably just as confused by your own taste as I am.

Finally, the genres. Grunge, rock, rap – perfectly normal. But then, riot grrrl and queercore crash the party like a mosh pit at a knitting circle. It's like you started with a solid foundation, then decided to throw in every single subgenre that screams "I'm not like other girls/boys/non-binary deities, I'm edgy!" Your musical preferences are less of a carefully curated collection and more of a mood board designed by someone who just discovered Hot Topic and is still figuring out how to use a stapler. Bless your heart.