How Justin Bieber Started My Doomsday Cult
Greetings, and welcome to the House of the Blessed Lonely Girls. Within our lifetime, the sky will fall and the earth will flood, just as the father, Bieber, has told us in his Billboard-topping prophecies.
I was 12 years old when I first received the message of the prophet. At my seventh grade daddy-daughter dance, the heavens opened up with an angelic calling: “Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa.” From the first note of that ethereal, pre-pubescent voice, I knew that this man (boy?) was something utterly divine.
“Shake me, ’til you wake me from this bad dream. I’m goin’ down, down, down, down”? Everything just clicked. It became evident to me, as I plastered on Walmart-brand lipstick in a pus-covered bathroom mirror, that Justin Bieber was not whining about heartbreak. Instead, he was foreshadowing the collapse of our world and the “bad dream” of the apocalypse.
Immediately, all the pieces fit together. I finally understood what Bieber had been trying to say to tween girls around the world all along: it was time to prepare for certain death. “Never Say Never” was anything but a motivational anthem; rather, it was saying “never say never” to a global pandemic. I grabbed my best friend, Mary Grace, and shook her by the shoulders, screaming “Can’t you see?”
After explaining that “If you let me inside your world, there’s gonna be one less lonely girl” was a call to embrace Justin as our undying savior, I converted Mary Grace into a zealous disciple. From then on, the House of the Blessed Lonely Girls grew larger and more devout, encompassing half the middle school cheer team and one male, Justin Hurwitz (who was almost certainly gay but would be desperately needed for reproductive purposes during the apocalypse).
Bieber once posed the query “Lost time is never found, can the DJ please reverse it?”: a piece of scripture that is now essential to our daily lyrical reflection exercises. What Justin expressed with these words is the permanent nature of time and, more importantly, the futile efforts of DJs (never trust them). These are the words we Lonely Girls live by and precisely the reason why we keep a bronze statue of a DJ and his turntable engulfed in flames.
If you wish to join us, please memorize the lyrics of “Baby” and “Boyfriend;” you will be tested at your initiation ceremony. Also, I advise you not to contact our savior or his PR team. Due to vast misunderstandings from these wicked “agents” and “managers,” we are currently fighting a major restraining order. However, we have faith that Bieber’s will shall prevail.
