Summer cuts are equivalent to Lorde’s Buzzcut album about youthood and the parody of time in relation to youth; I am unsettle by the gentleness of youth, hung like loose keys to be tapped and raddled by major thinkers who say they have a story to tell about a summer, or adulthood or some specific story to be told, as if our lives were an episode of Skins, to be written down as we have written upon stones, sandstones, soft scripts upon minerals, like they might never appear again in water.