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Yet I’m oddly unworried, floating backward on this conveyer belt into what I’m told will be a “very loud” machine, an MRI for these headaches that plague me each day. The sounds are loud, unbelievably so, but I feel good, safe in a moment where all I can do is surrender to stillness, close my eyes and breathe.
I saw J-Lo in the Bronx, she was with Ben Affleck and some other people in a Bodega. A teenage girl asked for her autograph and she said no. The girl said “Fuck you, your music is whack anyway.” J-Lo turned to the other people and said, “that’s why i don’t like coming back to this s**thole.”