When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side of the road and run and jump into the ocean in my clothes. I'm smaller than a poppy seed inside a great big bowl and the ocean is a giant that can swallow me whole, so I swim for all salvation and I swim to save my soul, but my soul is just a whisper trapped inside a tornado, so I flip to my back and I float and I sing, "I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything."
There's something so desperate about it all, and I'm not quite sure what it is. But, wow, it's been a year, and I've somehow changed, somehow grown, since last I saw those two faces standing on a stage, and their faces never seem to change, but everything's so different.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Between the drinks and subtle things and the holes in my apologies
I can't honestly say that I understand both points of view, even though I usually pride myself on being able to take both sides into consideration. I think I might be closer to understanding than I was earlier, because earlier I shifted from thinking you were completely unfair to thinking I was completely unfair, and between the highs and lows of pride and guilt I seemed to have lost the detachedness necessary to make proper decisions.
Here is what I do understand: I understand sometimes you have to say things and get them off your chest and you're relying on me to hear those things and not make it about me. I understand a lot of the time that I was not able to hear what you had to say and not take it out of proportion or panic about it and that probably made you feel worse. I understand that I have done some pretty crappy things that hurt you, too, even when we weren't dating, or official official. I understand that sometimes miscommunication happened and sometimes I overreacted and sometimes I did not think about your feelings before acting, and I'm sorry about it. Really truly.
But I've apologised and I think we've moved past it, as I have moved past the mistakes you made, even without lengthy and deep apologies. I don't need you to retract everything you said, or beg forgiveness, or cry because you're sorry. "Father I have sinned" but who the fuck cares, it's over and I never held it against you because I understand everyone is allowed to make mistakes and what kind of a person would I be if I jumped on you every time you made one? I thought we had gone on. I thought my stating my ideas and how I felt the other day without panicking would have made you understand how I feel, and maybe the proposal to change how we communicate would actually work, because I thought it was a good plan and it was better than nothing. But you dismissed it and moved on and then did the same thing that I do that you hate.
I don't like hypocrisy and now I'm wondering whether or not I should have held anything against you, because I forgave and forgot and moved past, understood that the grievances you held against me were also grievances other people used to hold against me and that maybe there was some legitimacy to your point so I conceded and let you be right. I read your letter and I felt sick because how, suddenly, is it all my fault when you're upset. How is it all my fault when you're telling me something I really can't handle and I say something like, "I know you're upset, but can you complain to someone else about how pathetic you think you are when you got 4s on your APs because you're making me feel like shit about myself." Is that unreasonable? Am I always supposed to be there, an iron wall to absorb all the flames you throw at but never growing hotter because that would be stupid, metal doesn't do that, why don't you just shape people into what you want them to be because they're not good enough by being human and fallible. Are you the only one allowed to be fallible?
And I can never ever tell you anything because you get mad at me, or you get angry, or bitter, and you leave and then write hysterical posts about how you cut and how you're so desperate and I do not want to do it anymore. You are doing with me what you do with everyone else, except you deny that you do it with me. How many times have you said, "I try to compete, but not with you. I can't compete with you." and I believed it because I have always been the exception to all the hate and disappointment that you have given other people. But you do compete, and you do it subtly, in blog posts and tweets that slowly make me feel worse and worse about myself and more and more sorry about what I'm doing to you. But every time I panic you make it about yourself. Can there be one thing in the world that is not about you?
Three years ago, since Tyler said the same words you uttered just a month ago, I have been trying not to blow things out of proportion, to act mature and calm down and think through things rationally. I am a hypocrite! I know! I do these dumb things and panic and I expect you not to, and I am trying to change! I have been trying to change, for a really really long time. But I can't be the only one. I can't be the only one to blame.
I don't want you to apologise; I want you to listen. If I'm crazy and insane and self-centred and a bitch, okay! Okay! Leave me and don't look back then, if I do cause you that much pain, if every time I panic you feel the need to leave and make the problem suddenly your problem, because nobody is more of a martyr, nobody is more hurt, not even in a moment.
All the while this scene has been playing through my head, of the one time I was panicking while you were here and I felt like I was going to die or cut myself open right there with whatever sharp object my hands could reach first and you just lay there and stared at me and I made desperate appeals to try to get you to understand but you didn't and I was shaking and finally I got up and started putting things away because I needed to do something with my hands because I knew they would kill me if I didn't and half an hour later I returned to bed still shaking and about to cry and only wanting someone to understand how horrible I felt but you were asleep.
I wish that I were scathing and witty and devastating so that I could do something to retaliate and so that my words would hurt you. I want you to hurt like you wanted me to hurt, like I'm hurting, like I'm going to keep hurting for years. I am Lazarus, come from the dead, come back to tell you all. I shall tell you all!
Here is what I do understand: I understand sometimes you have to say things and get them off your chest and you're relying on me to hear those things and not make it about me. I understand a lot of the time that I was not able to hear what you had to say and not take it out of proportion or panic about it and that probably made you feel worse. I understand that I have done some pretty crappy things that hurt you, too, even when we weren't dating, or official official. I understand that sometimes miscommunication happened and sometimes I overreacted and sometimes I did not think about your feelings before acting, and I'm sorry about it. Really truly.
But I've apologised and I think we've moved past it, as I have moved past the mistakes you made, even without lengthy and deep apologies. I don't need you to retract everything you said, or beg forgiveness, or cry because you're sorry. "Father I have sinned" but who the fuck cares, it's over and I never held it against you because I understand everyone is allowed to make mistakes and what kind of a person would I be if I jumped on you every time you made one? I thought we had gone on. I thought my stating my ideas and how I felt the other day without panicking would have made you understand how I feel, and maybe the proposal to change how we communicate would actually work, because I thought it was a good plan and it was better than nothing. But you dismissed it and moved on and then did the same thing that I do that you hate.
I don't like hypocrisy and now I'm wondering whether or not I should have held anything against you, because I forgave and forgot and moved past, understood that the grievances you held against me were also grievances other people used to hold against me and that maybe there was some legitimacy to your point so I conceded and let you be right. I read your letter and I felt sick because how, suddenly, is it all my fault when you're upset. How is it all my fault when you're telling me something I really can't handle and I say something like, "I know you're upset, but can you complain to someone else about how pathetic you think you are when you got 4s on your APs because you're making me feel like shit about myself." Is that unreasonable? Am I always supposed to be there, an iron wall to absorb all the flames you throw at but never growing hotter because that would be stupid, metal doesn't do that, why don't you just shape people into what you want them to be because they're not good enough by being human and fallible. Are you the only one allowed to be fallible?
And I can never ever tell you anything because you get mad at me, or you get angry, or bitter, and you leave and then write hysterical posts about how you cut and how you're so desperate and I do not want to do it anymore. You are doing with me what you do with everyone else, except you deny that you do it with me. How many times have you said, "I try to compete, but not with you. I can't compete with you." and I believed it because I have always been the exception to all the hate and disappointment that you have given other people. But you do compete, and you do it subtly, in blog posts and tweets that slowly make me feel worse and worse about myself and more and more sorry about what I'm doing to you. But every time I panic you make it about yourself. Can there be one thing in the world that is not about you?
Three years ago, since Tyler said the same words you uttered just a month ago, I have been trying not to blow things out of proportion, to act mature and calm down and think through things rationally. I am a hypocrite! I know! I do these dumb things and panic and I expect you not to, and I am trying to change! I have been trying to change, for a really really long time. But I can't be the only one. I can't be the only one to blame.
I don't want you to apologise; I want you to listen. If I'm crazy and insane and self-centred and a bitch, okay! Okay! Leave me and don't look back then, if I do cause you that much pain, if every time I panic you feel the need to leave and make the problem suddenly your problem, because nobody is more of a martyr, nobody is more hurt, not even in a moment.
All the while this scene has been playing through my head, of the one time I was panicking while you were here and I felt like I was going to die or cut myself open right there with whatever sharp object my hands could reach first and you just lay there and stared at me and I made desperate appeals to try to get you to understand but you didn't and I was shaking and finally I got up and started putting things away because I needed to do something with my hands because I knew they would kill me if I didn't and half an hour later I returned to bed still shaking and about to cry and only wanting someone to understand how horrible I felt but you were asleep.
I wish that I were scathing and witty and devastating so that I could do something to retaliate and so that my words would hurt you. I want you to hurt like you wanted me to hurt, like I'm hurting, like I'm going to keep hurting for years. I am Lazarus, come from the dead, come back to tell you all. I shall tell you all!
Monday, January 7, 2013
Dear Maarya
I have been trying to write for days, aching to get my hands to a keyboard so I can type, but as soon as I get home the words that were flitting around in my head leave me and I save it for another day. Now I don't have a laptop with me, and it's so cruelly ironic, so fitting, that I want to use my words just when I cannot. So I'm writing this without editing in a scrawl I've rarely used before and it's all so different, isn't it?
Except it's not.
You know about my professed inability to accurately judge time and for a while I thought nothing of it but now I notice it more often and it really gets in the way. I don't even feel it anymore, it's as if I just popped out of whatever lines of time we were confined in (as relative as they may be, shout out to Einstein!) and now it seems so weird to think of anything in terms of past or present, anything but a direct NOW.
Sometimes this is useful. It gives a bit of perspective by removing perspective. Cry less because you know it won't matter to you later; worry less because there's a future directly intertwined with the present. But just as everything in the future is happening at once, so is everything in the past, which is why it's so difficult for me to distinguish between what happened last week and what happened two years ago. I know it's different but I feel the same. I am the same person. Time is standing still.
And we can speculate as to why this is. Is it because I haven't physically changed much since then? Is it because I've moved but not moved on because all the friends I've made here were fleeting and superficial? Is it because I was too stressed out to focus on the change in my life and feel comfortable with it? Is it because everyone insisted so much that I was younger that I started insisting it, too? But in the long run it doesn't matter why it happened because it's like this and it doesn't seem to be changing.
It's funny because I never had a problem being ~*stuck in the past*~. I was hung up on some things, sure, but I didn't really give the past as much thought as it seemed like I would. What was done was done and I have no regrets, and even back when I did regret, I wasn't too fond of gazing back wistfully. It wasted time and it made me sad and it was such a loser thing to do, I thought. I still am not stuck in the past in the way you'd use the phrase -- I don't lament my fortune or wish I had done things differently or constantly pick over the past with a fine-toothed comb. But I still can't stop feeling like my own life is going too fast for me to understand or get a grip of. I'm watching myself do things and it astounds me that anything has changed at all (has it?) because I seem to have turned away for a second and missed the next plot development in the soap opera.
Time stopped moving around July of 9th grade, sometime during NTS. Thanks God good work. It all feels so alien to me now to talk about and simultaneously very very close to home and I really don't want to get too deep into what happened around that time. I'm not writing this about time or my perception of it, anyway (maybe that letter will never be written), but to provide a somewhat succinct background so you, and I, can better understand what I'm feeling now.
Because it does not feel real. You do not feel real, and I'm sorry because that must hurt to hear. It's really nothing I can consciously control, though my particular memory of winter break is getting better. I try not to think about what we've done and I'm sure it happened but I can't bring myself to believe that I'm not dreaming it. I don't feel fulfilled. I slept through it, just like I slept through Wicked, and Phantom of the Opera, and that time we went to central park for nerdprom by ourselves. I want you back so I can make you real, because the pain of loss hurts less than the pain of forgetting, of not feeling, of disbelief. I always wanted to know, and now I do! Except I need to feel it also and how do I do that when I haven't felt for years?
It's like I've been cheated on, promised a prize only to have it snatched away. Unfair unfair. How can you talk of the future if I can't reconcile the past? How can you talk about college if I am still in 9th grade?
It's all disbelief -- disbelief that you would love me, that you would come here, that it would be comfortable and wonderful and good. Disbelief that I am here, that I am myself and I say the things I say and do the things I do. Come back, so that I can imprint your face in my memory and your heart on my lips and push push until I know that time is moving again. I'd rather lose you than have never had you at all. That was one of Becca's questions, wasn't it? I guess I never knew how to answer that until now. I don't demand of you to make me feel again, because that seems a hefty request to make and I feel somewhat self-centred and guilty and sick to make it. I'm not sure who else can help, though.
I got the clock working, if that means anything. I don't have much faith in it. Those little hands must be lying, moving forward with such confident precision and slaying time slowly, like the way glass is smoothed by the sea. How fitting that you should get me a watch.
But sometimes I wake up and I miss you terribly, and I remember you by my side, your body pressed to mine in bed, and even though that hurts, it might be a step in the right direction.
I love you.
Sofiya
Except it's not.
You know about my professed inability to accurately judge time and for a while I thought nothing of it but now I notice it more often and it really gets in the way. I don't even feel it anymore, it's as if I just popped out of whatever lines of time we were confined in (as relative as they may be, shout out to Einstein!) and now it seems so weird to think of anything in terms of past or present, anything but a direct NOW.
Sometimes this is useful. It gives a bit of perspective by removing perspective. Cry less because you know it won't matter to you later; worry less because there's a future directly intertwined with the present. But just as everything in the future is happening at once, so is everything in the past, which is why it's so difficult for me to distinguish between what happened last week and what happened two years ago. I know it's different but I feel the same. I am the same person. Time is standing still.
And we can speculate as to why this is. Is it because I haven't physically changed much since then? Is it because I've moved but not moved on because all the friends I've made here were fleeting and superficial? Is it because I was too stressed out to focus on the change in my life and feel comfortable with it? Is it because everyone insisted so much that I was younger that I started insisting it, too? But in the long run it doesn't matter why it happened because it's like this and it doesn't seem to be changing.
It's funny because I never had a problem being ~*stuck in the past*~. I was hung up on some things, sure, but I didn't really give the past as much thought as it seemed like I would. What was done was done and I have no regrets, and even back when I did regret, I wasn't too fond of gazing back wistfully. It wasted time and it made me sad and it was such a loser thing to do, I thought. I still am not stuck in the past in the way you'd use the phrase -- I don't lament my fortune or wish I had done things differently or constantly pick over the past with a fine-toothed comb. But I still can't stop feeling like my own life is going too fast for me to understand or get a grip of. I'm watching myself do things and it astounds me that anything has changed at all (has it?) because I seem to have turned away for a second and missed the next plot development in the soap opera.
Time stopped moving around July of 9th grade, sometime during NTS. Thanks God good work. It all feels so alien to me now to talk about and simultaneously very very close to home and I really don't want to get too deep into what happened around that time. I'm not writing this about time or my perception of it, anyway (maybe that letter will never be written), but to provide a somewhat succinct background so you, and I, can better understand what I'm feeling now.
Because it does not feel real. You do not feel real, and I'm sorry because that must hurt to hear. It's really nothing I can consciously control, though my particular memory of winter break is getting better. I try not to think about what we've done and I'm sure it happened but I can't bring myself to believe that I'm not dreaming it. I don't feel fulfilled. I slept through it, just like I slept through Wicked, and Phantom of the Opera, and that time we went to central park for nerdprom by ourselves. I want you back so I can make you real, because the pain of loss hurts less than the pain of forgetting, of not feeling, of disbelief. I always wanted to know, and now I do! Except I need to feel it also and how do I do that when I haven't felt for years?
It's like I've been cheated on, promised a prize only to have it snatched away. Unfair unfair. How can you talk of the future if I can't reconcile the past? How can you talk about college if I am still in 9th grade?
It's all disbelief -- disbelief that you would love me, that you would come here, that it would be comfortable and wonderful and good. Disbelief that I am here, that I am myself and I say the things I say and do the things I do. Come back, so that I can imprint your face in my memory and your heart on my lips and push push until I know that time is moving again. I'd rather lose you than have never had you at all. That was one of Becca's questions, wasn't it? I guess I never knew how to answer that until now. I don't demand of you to make me feel again, because that seems a hefty request to make and I feel somewhat self-centred and guilty and sick to make it. I'm not sure who else can help, though.
I got the clock working, if that means anything. I don't have much faith in it. Those little hands must be lying, moving forward with such confident precision and slaying time slowly, like the way glass is smoothed by the sea. How fitting that you should get me a watch.
But sometimes I wake up and I miss you terribly, and I remember you by my side, your body pressed to mine in bed, and even though that hurts, it might be a step in the right direction.
I love you.
Sofiya
Saturday, January 5, 2013
For Tyler and Maarya
A list of albums I think you might like (Tyler) and because you're interested (Maarya) and some descriptions
Transcendental Youth - The Mountain Goats
An acquired taste but once you get it they're really really good okay A+
All Eternals Deck - The Mountain Goats
Not as good as Transcendental Youth but it has some good ones and overall is pretty solid. Listen just for No Children and Damn These Vampires B
Gossamer - Passion Pit
Passion Pit should never have a reason. B+
Port of Morrow - The Shins
It's angsty. It's whiny. They're teenage boys (practically men!). They're like The Smiths. They even have a similar name. You will feel whole. A
The Head and the Heart - The Head and the Heart
Tyler already has this but it's good A+
Young the Giant - Young the Giant
Worth having just for Cough Syrup. That's how worthy this album is. A
For Emma, Forever Ago - Bon Iver
Bon Iver before he got reclusive and incoherent. Bon Iver when he was cute and guitar-ey. Bon Iver reminds you of Twilight (and in a good way, too, which is totally weird). Bon Iver makes you love again. A+
The North - Stars
Sort of okay. Worth giving a shot if you've got money. B
Meteora - Linkin Park
JUST KIDDING.
NO.
Around the Well - Iron & Wine
Iron & Wine is one of those bands that you forget exists and then you're like, "Hey, I forgot this band exists!" and then you listen to all their music and you never hate anything again and pass all your classes and walk around in a totally zen mood and do meditation for fun. A+
Bon Iver - Bon Iver
One of my favourite albums so go for it bro seriously you will not be disappoint A+++++
Mirage Rock - Band of Horses
Pretty chill B
Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes
Feel-good music. A just cause it's so cute
Narrow Stairs - Death Cab for Cutie
Not one of the best but it's in the running up. A
The Whole Love - Wilco
You either get it or you don't B
O - Damien Rice
I already have this one and I can say with certainty that it is the bomb especially if you like soft, angsty, brooding vocals (RICHARD WALTERS COUGH). A+
Underwater - Joshua Radin
Just including this cause hey Joshua Radin! Where ya been Joshua Radin! Disappeared off the face Joshua Radin! More like Joshua RadOUT amirite B
The Shepherd's Dog - Iron & Wine
Better than Around the Well but not by a lot A+
Time Without Consequence - Alexi Murdoch
Just look at that face. All around quiet and pensive and not in the way Iron & Wine is (hint: in a worser way) B
Civilian - Wye Oak
I just really like the song Civilian. The rest of the album is good too I guess. Buy for the cover art. I don't have a problem shut up B+
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning - Bright Eyes
If you can stomach whiny white boys crying about how hard life is then this is your lucky day because that's all Bright Eyes does. But seriously it ain't half bad. B+
Half-Made - Ben Sollee
Oh Ben Sollee you sex bomb you 10/10 would bang to this album
Harcore Will Never Die, But You Will - Mogwai
It's post-rock so make of it what you will but personally I'm a fan of Mogwai and post-rock so it's a pretty good deal for me A
Tamer Animals - Other Lives
MAN OH MAN HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ALBUM TO BE IN MY POSSESSION SO I CAN STROKE IT KISS IT LOVE IT A+++
American Nomad - The Apache Relay
It's missing a certain something but I don't know why so B
The Lumineers - The Lumineers
I think we all have this CD by this point but can we just take a moment to appreciate
Night Visions - Imagine Dragons
A cute fun ride B
Using my very detailed methodology and criteria for selecting grades for each album, I have narrowed down the list to:
(for Tyler, in order of cool)
Transcendental Youth - The Mountain Goats
An acquired taste but once you get it they're really really good okay A+
All Eternals Deck - The Mountain Goats
Not as good as Transcendental Youth but it has some good ones and overall is pretty solid. Listen just for No Children and Damn These Vampires B
Gossamer - Passion Pit
Passion Pit should never have a reason. B+
Port of Morrow - The Shins
It's angsty. It's whiny. They're teenage boys (practically men!). They're like The Smiths. They even have a similar name. You will feel whole. A
The Head and the Heart - The Head and the Heart
Tyler already has this but it's good A+
Young the Giant - Young the Giant
Worth having just for Cough Syrup. That's how worthy this album is. A
For Emma, Forever Ago - Bon Iver
Bon Iver before he got reclusive and incoherent. Bon Iver when he was cute and guitar-ey. Bon Iver reminds you of Twilight (and in a good way, too, which is totally weird). Bon Iver makes you love again. A+
The North - Stars
Sort of okay. Worth giving a shot if you've got money. B
Meteora - Linkin Park
JUST KIDDING.
NO.
Around the Well - Iron & Wine
Iron & Wine is one of those bands that you forget exists and then you're like, "Hey, I forgot this band exists!" and then you listen to all their music and you never hate anything again and pass all your classes and walk around in a totally zen mood and do meditation for fun. A+
Bon Iver - Bon Iver
One of my favourite albums so go for it bro seriously you will not be disappoint A+++++
Mirage Rock - Band of Horses
Pretty chill B
Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes
Feel-good music. A just cause it's so cute
Narrow Stairs - Death Cab for Cutie
Not one of the best but it's in the running up. A
The Whole Love - Wilco
You either get it or you don't B
O - Damien Rice
I already have this one and I can say with certainty that it is the bomb especially if you like soft, angsty, brooding vocals (RICHARD WALTERS COUGH). A+
Underwater - Joshua Radin
Just including this cause hey Joshua Radin! Where ya been Joshua Radin! Disappeared off the face Joshua Radin! More like Joshua RadOUT amirite B
The Shepherd's Dog - Iron & Wine
Better than Around the Well but not by a lot A+
Time Without Consequence - Alexi Murdoch
Just look at that face. All around quiet and pensive and not in the way Iron & Wine is (hint: in a worser way) B
Civilian - Wye Oak
I just really like the song Civilian. The rest of the album is good too I guess. Buy for the cover art. I don't have a problem shut up B+
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning - Bright Eyes
If you can stomach whiny white boys crying about how hard life is then this is your lucky day because that's all Bright Eyes does. But seriously it ain't half bad. B+
Half-Made - Ben Sollee
Oh Ben Sollee you sex bomb you 10/10 would bang to this album
Harcore Will Never Die, But You Will - Mogwai
It's post-rock so make of it what you will but personally I'm a fan of Mogwai and post-rock so it's a pretty good deal for me A
Tamer Animals - Other Lives
MAN OH MAN HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ALBUM TO BE IN MY POSSESSION SO I CAN STROKE IT KISS IT LOVE IT A+++
American Nomad - The Apache Relay
It's missing a certain something but I don't know why so B
The Lumineers - The Lumineers
I think we all have this CD by this point but can we just take a moment to appreciate
Night Visions - Imagine Dragons
A cute fun ride B
Using my very detailed methodology and criteria for selecting grades for each album, I have narrowed down the list to:
(for Tyler, in order of cool)
- Bon Iver
- O
- Tamer Animals
- The Shepherd's Dog
- Transcendental Youth
- Around the Well
- For Emma, Forever Ago
- Half-Made
- Port of Morrow
- Narrow Stairs
- Helplessness Blues
- Young the Giant
and, for myself:
- Tamer Animals
- Half-Made
- The Shepherd's Dog
- Around the Well
- Port of Morrow
- Transcendental Youth
- The Head and the Heart
- For Emma, Forever Ago
- Young the Giant
oh I can't afford all . . .
hmph
Friday, January 4, 2013
Is it all so very simple and horribly complex?
Horribly complex or awfully complex
I'm feeling particularly pensive today and I'm trying to ignore the one thing I really need to write about, so here have extra fun posts because I haven't posted in a while anyway.
The song originally goes, "Is it all so very simple and horribly complex?" In terms of blog titles, I prefer awfully as the leading word over horribly. Purely an aesthetic reason. But there is some difference in semantics which might be interesting to delve into.
Horribly, though overused a lot, connects to the word "horror", which holds a special place in my heart just because of its attempt to describe something so terrible. Awful, on the other hand, is more annoyance-based than fear-based (or disgust-based), at least for me. Awful is less strong than horrible. This may not actually hold true but it's always the impression it had on me. It's less of a dramatic word.
Horribly complex is more right than awfully complex.
But we try to keep a cheery attitude here so.
Anyway it's not the right blog title anymore. I still hold that line close to my heart but it needs to go.
I'm feeling particularly pensive today and I'm trying to ignore the one thing I really need to write about, so here have extra fun posts because I haven't posted in a while anyway.
The song originally goes, "Is it all so very simple and horribly complex?" In terms of blog titles, I prefer awfully as the leading word over horribly. Purely an aesthetic reason. But there is some difference in semantics which might be interesting to delve into.
Horribly, though overused a lot, connects to the word "horror", which holds a special place in my heart just because of its attempt to describe something so terrible. Awful, on the other hand, is more annoyance-based than fear-based (or disgust-based), at least for me. Awful is less strong than horrible. This may not actually hold true but it's always the impression it had on me. It's less of a dramatic word.
Horribly complex is more right than awfully complex.
But we try to keep a cheery attitude here so.
Anyway it's not the right blog title anymore. I still hold that line close to my heart but it needs to go.
In a cold little mirror you were grown, by a black little wind you were blown.
Black, black sheep boy,
blue-eyed charmer,
head hanging with horns from your father.
In a cold little mirror you were grown,
by a black little wind you were blown,
alone, alone, alone.
Cold smile on your lips,
you shake and shiver.
Some animal slips
where the river flows
from a black little crack in a stone
to the crackle in a radio song.
Sing along, sing along, sing along.
Warm light when your eyes
fill with laughter.
Some animal lies
in the pasture,
holes in its throat
where the blood was drawn,
in its mouth where the tongue was torn
by your claw, your claws, your claws.
I rose from dream.
We were running
from every being
that was hunting,
but we let them get ahead of us.
We let them lie in wait for us.
We're fucked, we're fucked, we're fucked.
I rose from a dream.
I had just destroyed everything
with one crushing blow,
and I woke up and watched it go,
and I woke up and wagged my tongue.
So long, so long, so long.
I had a brief stint with Okkervil River, which, at the time, would have seemed like a really amazing idea had I the capability to think through my actions at all. I mean, as far as bad decisions go, indulging in depressing music is hardly the worst thing I could have done, but it seemed (still seems) like the lowest I could sink. I have done worse out of desperation, but this included words. This summed it up. Everything else was just a buzz in comparison.
I'm not quite sure why words matter so much to me when I'm judging the importance of things. There are some unspoken things which are horrific, but words aren't any less so. Just because a person is indulging in words instead of actions does not mean they're immediately off the hook, clean, fine. It doesn't mean they're okay.
Furthermore, I'm not sure what I see in Okkervil River that's so threatening -- in specific, their album, Black Sheep Boy (the other albums are alright). It's a band that reminds me of Tool, not because of the sound, but because one time Zaineb showed it to me and said they were her favourite band and I was horrified by how dark it was. The thing is, Tool isn't actually that dark, but it seemed it at the time. It seemed like I was opening up some pit of horror and despair that previously had not been opened up by anything else other than cage beds and Chinese foot binding (both pretty bad things I had nightmares about a long long time ago), and I did not want to delve into that . . . at least, not when I was 14.
This is all very hard to word because I am not actually sure why I feel so strongly about Okkervil River and Tool. If you've seen the "Don't Hug Me I'm Scared" video, it's the same feeling.
I remember sitting in the corner of my room and just streaming this CD over and over while staring at the computer screen blankly and I thought, "Yes, I relate to this.", when I thought at all because thinking was difficult. On some level, it still is, but I think I've somehow climbed out of that pit. Or maybe I've crawled so far in that I can't see the outside to make comparisons anymore. Regardless, it was not a good time for me and I channelled my feelings through that CD.
Black Sheep Boy documents the thoughts of a heroin addict, which is a weird start because I have never harboured any desire to try heroin and I probably won't because if this was my low point and all I did was listen to music then I'm a pretty mild person as far as acting out goes. I guess what drew me to it was the desperation of the whole thing, and the ease with which the singer narrates his plans to steal away someone he knows so they both can live vicariously through heroin before they both die, the pale, broken way in which the reclusive, animal life of the Black Sheep Boy is led. The entire thing, despite not really resonating with me literally, was what my vision of the world was. "I can barely whisper, it's like dying."
That wasn't too long ago, though: only around a month. It feels so much longer, though, as I listen to the songs again and feel that unease building up. It comes up now because I was scrolling through spotify and looked at the song and thought, "Hell, I'm in a bad mood, let's give this a shot." but I realised soon that this was a heartbreaking sort of feeling, completely teenagerey and normal. Black Sheep Boy delves into a void deeper than that, and it's a void I'm not going into again.
blue-eyed charmer,
head hanging with horns from your father.
In a cold little mirror you were grown,
by a black little wind you were blown,
alone, alone, alone.
Cold smile on your lips,
you shake and shiver.
Some animal slips
where the river flows
from a black little crack in a stone
to the crackle in a radio song.
Sing along, sing along, sing along.
Warm light when your eyes
fill with laughter.
Some animal lies
in the pasture,
holes in its throat
where the blood was drawn,
in its mouth where the tongue was torn
by your claw, your claws, your claws.
I rose from dream.
We were running
from every being
that was hunting,
but we let them get ahead of us.
We let them lie in wait for us.
We're fucked, we're fucked, we're fucked.
I rose from a dream.
I had just destroyed everything
with one crushing blow,
and I woke up and watched it go,
and I woke up and wagged my tongue.
So long, so long, so long.
I had a brief stint with Okkervil River, which, at the time, would have seemed like a really amazing idea had I the capability to think through my actions at all. I mean, as far as bad decisions go, indulging in depressing music is hardly the worst thing I could have done, but it seemed (still seems) like the lowest I could sink. I have done worse out of desperation, but this included words. This summed it up. Everything else was just a buzz in comparison.
I'm not quite sure why words matter so much to me when I'm judging the importance of things. There are some unspoken things which are horrific, but words aren't any less so. Just because a person is indulging in words instead of actions does not mean they're immediately off the hook, clean, fine. It doesn't mean they're okay.
Furthermore, I'm not sure what I see in Okkervil River that's so threatening -- in specific, their album, Black Sheep Boy (the other albums are alright). It's a band that reminds me of Tool, not because of the sound, but because one time Zaineb showed it to me and said they were her favourite band and I was horrified by how dark it was. The thing is, Tool isn't actually that dark, but it seemed it at the time. It seemed like I was opening up some pit of horror and despair that previously had not been opened up by anything else other than cage beds and Chinese foot binding (both pretty bad things I had nightmares about a long long time ago), and I did not want to delve into that . . . at least, not when I was 14.
This is all very hard to word because I am not actually sure why I feel so strongly about Okkervil River and Tool. If you've seen the "Don't Hug Me I'm Scared" video, it's the same feeling.
I remember sitting in the corner of my room and just streaming this CD over and over while staring at the computer screen blankly and I thought, "Yes, I relate to this.", when I thought at all because thinking was difficult. On some level, it still is, but I think I've somehow climbed out of that pit. Or maybe I've crawled so far in that I can't see the outside to make comparisons anymore. Regardless, it was not a good time for me and I channelled my feelings through that CD.
Black Sheep Boy documents the thoughts of a heroin addict, which is a weird start because I have never harboured any desire to try heroin and I probably won't because if this was my low point and all I did was listen to music then I'm a pretty mild person as far as acting out goes. I guess what drew me to it was the desperation of the whole thing, and the ease with which the singer narrates his plans to steal away someone he knows so they both can live vicariously through heroin before they both die, the pale, broken way in which the reclusive, animal life of the Black Sheep Boy is led. The entire thing, despite not really resonating with me literally, was what my vision of the world was. "I can barely whisper, it's like dying."
That wasn't too long ago, though: only around a month. It feels so much longer, though, as I listen to the songs again and feel that unease building up. It comes up now because I was scrolling through spotify and looked at the song and thought, "Hell, I'm in a bad mood, let's give this a shot." but I realised soon that this was a heartbreaking sort of feeling, completely teenagerey and normal. Black Sheep Boy delves into a void deeper than that, and it's a void I'm not going into again.
Monday, December 17, 2012
So instead of writing my English essay I decided to write a blog post because I have so many feelings and nobody to gesticulate wildly with so you know how that ends, with my overloading.
I don't really have a point in writing this, either. Nothing really happened in the past two days worth writing about and for quite a long while I didn't feel like writing something formally would really help how I felt or how things were doing. It used to have purpose, some sort of solidity, but now there does not seem to be a point. Like this is so pointless that I don't even have a clever song title for this yet. I'll probably come up with one later, though.
But there are still pretty things and as long as there are pretty things I'll be around to talk about them.
First we have winter, and I know that there is in general a lot of winter love going around in the friend group, but I really really like winter. Mostly because of Christmas, because somehow I'm one of those people that gets unusually cheery and happy around the holidays. Everyone loves to hate those people but I've ended up as one of them and I'm not quite sure how but there it is, I really like the holidays. We haven't even gotten snow yet but I'm sure that if we did I'd just be off the walls insane because that would be so perfect. I think it's the weather and the snowflakes everywhere. It's just a good time and I like it.
Also things have been weird but we can for the most part ignore those except to acknowledge that they're there and weird and making other things weird.
I dunno I just feel really good today but that's subject to change and tomorrow I might feel horrid but that's just the way it is and I'm not sure what my point in making this is except everything is simultaneously the best thing ever and the worst thing ever and for the same reasons too not different reasons it's all beautiful because it all sucks and the air crystallises it so everything is wrapped up in a nice neat bow and wow isn't it so strange how it is isn't it so strange how things work out
I don't really have a point in writing this, either. Nothing really happened in the past two days worth writing about and for quite a long while I didn't feel like writing something formally would really help how I felt or how things were doing. It used to have purpose, some sort of solidity, but now there does not seem to be a point. Like this is so pointless that I don't even have a clever song title for this yet. I'll probably come up with one later, though.
But there are still pretty things and as long as there are pretty things I'll be around to talk about them.
First we have winter, and I know that there is in general a lot of winter love going around in the friend group, but I really really like winter. Mostly because of Christmas, because somehow I'm one of those people that gets unusually cheery and happy around the holidays. Everyone loves to hate those people but I've ended up as one of them and I'm not quite sure how but there it is, I really like the holidays. We haven't even gotten snow yet but I'm sure that if we did I'd just be off the walls insane because that would be so perfect. I think it's the weather and the snowflakes everywhere. It's just a good time and I like it.
Also things have been weird but we can for the most part ignore those except to acknowledge that they're there and weird and making other things weird.
I dunno I just feel really good today but that's subject to change and tomorrow I might feel horrid but that's just the way it is and I'm not sure what my point in making this is except everything is simultaneously the best thing ever and the worst thing ever and for the same reasons too not different reasons it's all beautiful because it all sucks and the air crystallises it so everything is wrapped up in a nice neat bow and wow isn't it so strange how it is isn't it so strange how things work out
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