Today is July 217th, the Year of Our Lord 2015. This summer has certainly been a disturbing one, with out-of-season snowstorms, Donald Trump rallies and unfortunately, we don’t know when we’ll see the end of it. In the past few days, we have seen 460 pure album sales of the Barbadian pop princess Rihanna’s RIAA platinum-certified mixtape ANTI and have retrieved the missing socks from the dungeons below the dryer. In an interesting twist of fate, we have also located the whereabouts of both Waldo and Carmen San Diego. Who would have known that the two of them were enjoying brunch in a little café near the Bermuda Triangle? We have found all of the differences in the pictures in the Sunday paper, used our super-sleuthing skills to find every missing object in the Scholastic I SPY book series and there is still no sign of Christopher Edwin Breaux.
I am not quite sure what to think of this odd set of events. I have corrected my improperly printed calendar at least six times and have personally contacted Inspector Gadget to get to the bottom of this. Between him and Penny, someone has to find him, though some think otherwise. My brother insists that I contact AppleCare again to fix the christopher_francis_ocean adware that keeps coming up on my Twitter timeline and Tumblr dash, but I keep getting put on hold. Though boys don’t cry, I am starting to lose faith, beginning to think that it’s a bad religion. Frank is out there somewhere. This summer is long, hard and numbing, but I still believe. A friend of mine thinks that Mr. Ocean was merely a glitch in the Matrix, a figment of our imaginations and that efforts are being rushed to erase all notions of him. No one is to know of these things, but as my friend says, “We’re awake.”
According to the elders, it is Black History Month of the new year, but summer can’t be over. Frank promised he’d come with a new LP in July. To keep me comforted, I have created a YouTube playlist of ten of my favorite songs written by him and am attaching them below. I hope that I don’t get too sad listening to it, thinking of an ultra nostalgia. It is a very cold summer and I don’t have my Channel Orange jacket. For any of you reading this, keep faith alive and if you see or hear of any spottings of Frank Ocean, contact Forthescribes.com as soon as possible and please take pictures.