What The Backstreet Boys Have Taught Me.

I’m bad at hiding. I’ve tried to hide it so that no one knows, but I guess it shows, when you look into my eyes. So many times I thought I was cool but then when I look at the situation years later, with fresh eyes, I’m about as cool as a dude pushing thirty in a white outfit with a goatee.

You can’t bring Thriller back. You can dress up as a werewolf, a mummy, a Phantom of the Opera, and whatever the other two guys were, and you can all dance around in a big group while holding your arms up, but it’s still not going to be Thriller. That epic moment in musical history is not yours, BSB. And that goes for all of us. We don’t have to recreate Thriller. We just have to do what we do best and love most.

Airports are great places to dance in.

Something is going to be really popular for a few years and then it’s going to be totally lame. Then it’s going to be popular again in an ironic way. But then it’s going to be popular again in a new nostalgic way. And I want it that way.

Most gatherings of five guys are going to include a cute one, a guy who looks really old, another guy who looks really old for a different reason that you can’t quite place, and then two other guys who are totally forgettable. But you don’t always have to pick the cute one.

You can go years without hearing a certain song but as soon as you hear those first few bars, all of the lyrics are going to come back to you and some of the dance moves too, and goddamn it, that’s fucking magical.

We’ve all wanted to turn back time, impossible as it may seem. But we still want to…so bad[ly]. We have to get over this. WE FUCKING CAN’T! IT’S OVER, GUYS! IT’S IN THE PAST! But don’t let your past define you. Don’t let it torture you. Don’t let it do anything but make you fucking grateful that you have more days ahead of you to live. I have to admit that some days when I say this, it just doesn’t sound true. I can’t believe it. But I say it anyway. Because one day, I’m going to believe it. And that’s the day it will be true.

If somebody’s back and you’re happy about it — all right! There’s nothing more to say. Say it, accept it, deal with it. All right!

But no matter whether you listened to the Backstreet Boys, or not; whether you think they’re terrible or not; whether you were too old or even too young when they were popular; there is one thing we can all agree on and that is that I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, or even what you did; as long as you love me, none of it matters.

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