Things I have learned about myself in the past month and a half, or so (this list is sincere, and not intended as any kind of self-indulgent or self-pitying monologue - it's an unemotional reflection on things as I see them):
1. I am going to die young.
I don't belong in this world. I care too much, and have no proper defense mechanism, to survive long in the great wide somewhere. And that's okay. This world destroys stardust, you know. It so repels beauty as to send it back upon itself to self-destruct. That's sad.
I spend too much time lost in daydreams and fantasies, living in a world infinitely more beautiful than this one.
And so it'll swallow me, too, eventually.
2. I will never be able to kiss someone without being made to feel bad about it afterwards.
3. This is my last post.
I've made the choice to let go of this blog. It was a thought that just passed through my mind in the making of this list, and as soon as I gave it a voice I knew it to be true. And it's not going to be a trumped-up, pretentious farewell as was my last leave-taking from this blog. It's just happening, and then all of this will, for better or worse, slowly fade away.
But maybe I'll return one day. Who knows.
I've never been able to stay away for long before.
(Goodbye) Never Crossed My Mind
I don't like to think about the future
because I know all the sadness it can bring
and it scares me to think, over the next few years,
what all I can lose that someone else will win
used to be I never for a second thought like this
but that was before I had something I didn't want to lose
now every moment might bring some magic I might miss
so I don't want to close my eyes around you
I remember you said "I love you" in the middle of a different sentence
it was so quick I didn't notice until a few hours had gone by
and still here we are, our time somehow nearing the end
but of all the things I always thought I'd say to you,
goodbye, never crossed my mind
some people come into our lives so suddenly
and others leave exactly in the same way
it makes me wonder which one of those you are to me
and just how much more there is for us to say
'cause when I said "I love you," I wrote it on a piece of paper
but you came to me so you could see me say it with your own eyes
and still here we are, these moments fading into a blur
but of all the things I always thought I'd say to you,
goodbye, never crossed my mind
BRIDGE:
maybe you've been getting ready for this from the day that we first met
but I never wanted to think about how hard you'll be to forget
we kissed for the first time in your car after you drove me home
just as the sun was going down the day before the fourth of July
still here we are, about to be all on our own
but of all the things I always thought I'd say to you,
goodbye, never crossed my mind
oh, of all the things I always thought I'd be saying to you
goodbye, it never crossed my mind
(goodbye, goodbye)
(goodbye, goodbye)
(goodbye, goodbye)
I don't like to think about the future (goodbye, goodbye)
because I know all the sadness it can bring (goodbye, goodbye)
(goodbye, goodbye)
(goodbye, goodbye)...
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
I knew it from the start: someday you'd break my heart.
You're afraid it's all been wasted time.
13 August 2014
23 July 2014
What I'm Doing With You
Apparently, it has been exactly a month since I lasted posted.
And what a month it was. I can't even begin to conceptualise what the hell all happened in the past few weeks, so I won't even try to put it into words.
Instead, I guess I'll just progress to the song, then, to avoid my customary brand of unnecessary verbosity.
I will say this, though: it has a weird structure, this song (as will the next song, "(Goodbye) Never Crossed My Mind"); I'm avoiding choruses, I think, in order to imbue the songs with more imagery. Because I like to think that the way I handle words makes everything a little bit more beautiful. Case in point - the image of standing under a streetlight in a parking lot with a boy, about which I wrote in the previous entry, apparently came out quite romantic, which is nice. It wasn't meant as a romantic moment, and I will try never to admit to the fact that I lived it that way, but I will say that my friendship with this person is the most exciting thing that has happened to me, as I have told him on several occasions.
It's a friendship I trust most openly, as well. (But it's also just a friendship. And will only ever be.) It's one of the truest, least capricious things in my life right now, and I am profoundly grateful for it.
It's also not something I can really explain. Nor, perhaps, do I want to.
As is to be depicted below.
What I'm Doing With You
I wish I knew what the point of knowing you is
'cause that might make you easier to understand
but I don't think anyone could ever explain this
you're such a strange and beautiful man
even though I sometimes wish the world were more like me,
so that I wouldn't always feel so alone,
you're the one I would never change, out of everybody
but why not, I can't pretend to know
still you were there once when I started to cry
and you were my first kiss on the cheek
and even though I have no clue what I'm doing with you
I like to think it's completely unique
I wish I knew better than getting to know you
but then I never did know what was good for me
and who can guess which day will bring something new
things can change so suddenly
sometimes I want to strangle you, sometimes I'd rather kiss you
but I know I'll spend the next thirty years
pretending every day that I don't miss you
even if you never know what I need to hear
but you caught me in your arms in the middle of the room
so suddenly that I rocked back on my heels
and even though I still don't know what I'm doing with you
I've never been held so tightly
and it must not mean anything to you,
that you're my favourite person in the world
'cause sometimes you look right past me
and I'd like to think that when this is over
you'll think of me as more than just forgettable
but of course there's no guarantee
but you caught me in your arms in the middle of the room
so suddenly that I rocked back on my heels
and even though I still don't know what I'm doing with you
I've never been held so tightly
and even though I'll never know what I'm doing with you,
I'll never be held so tightly, again...
I keep re-reading this song, because I love it so much. It probably won't mean anything to you, but for some reason this is something that has provided fodder for songs for me. As I told someone yesterday (shout-out, again, to Alex) some people just passing through your life could inspire a dozen songs, while someone more significant might not inspire any. It's a strange relationship, words and the heart.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
It's a million miles from there to here, and how we got here isn't clear / I wonder if we'd do it all again / I've retraced every step, trying to find the moment when / you and I became more than friends.
And what a month it was. I can't even begin to conceptualise what the hell all happened in the past few weeks, so I won't even try to put it into words.
Instead, I guess I'll just progress to the song, then, to avoid my customary brand of unnecessary verbosity.
I will say this, though: it has a weird structure, this song (as will the next song, "(Goodbye) Never Crossed My Mind"); I'm avoiding choruses, I think, in order to imbue the songs with more imagery. Because I like to think that the way I handle words makes everything a little bit more beautiful. Case in point - the image of standing under a streetlight in a parking lot with a boy, about which I wrote in the previous entry, apparently came out quite romantic, which is nice. It wasn't meant as a romantic moment, and I will try never to admit to the fact that I lived it that way, but I will say that my friendship with this person is the most exciting thing that has happened to me, as I have told him on several occasions.
It's a friendship I trust most openly, as well. (But it's also just a friendship. And will only ever be.) It's one of the truest, least capricious things in my life right now, and I am profoundly grateful for it.
It's also not something I can really explain. Nor, perhaps, do I want to.
As is to be depicted below.
What I'm Doing With You
I wish I knew what the point of knowing you is
'cause that might make you easier to understand
but I don't think anyone could ever explain this
you're such a strange and beautiful man
even though I sometimes wish the world were more like me,
so that I wouldn't always feel so alone,
you're the one I would never change, out of everybody
but why not, I can't pretend to know
still you were there once when I started to cry
and you were my first kiss on the cheek
and even though I have no clue what I'm doing with you
I like to think it's completely unique
I wish I knew better than getting to know you
but then I never did know what was good for me
and who can guess which day will bring something new
things can change so suddenly
sometimes I want to strangle you, sometimes I'd rather kiss you
but I know I'll spend the next thirty years
pretending every day that I don't miss you
even if you never know what I need to hear
but you caught me in your arms in the middle of the room
so suddenly that I rocked back on my heels
and even though I still don't know what I'm doing with you
I've never been held so tightly
and it must not mean anything to you,
that you're my favourite person in the world
'cause sometimes you look right past me
and I'd like to think that when this is over
you'll think of me as more than just forgettable
but of course there's no guarantee
but you caught me in your arms in the middle of the room
so suddenly that I rocked back on my heels
and even though I still don't know what I'm doing with you
I've never been held so tightly
and even though I'll never know what I'm doing with you,
I'll never be held so tightly, again...
I keep re-reading this song, because I love it so much. It probably won't mean anything to you, but for some reason this is something that has provided fodder for songs for me. As I told someone yesterday (shout-out, again, to Alex) some people just passing through your life could inspire a dozen songs, while someone more significant might not inspire any. It's a strange relationship, words and the heart.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
It's a million miles from there to here, and how we got here isn't clear / I wonder if we'd do it all again / I've retraced every step, trying to find the moment when / you and I became more than friends.
23 June 2014
Enough
I want to start today by thanking a very mysterious reader, QuiteTheFanofYou. It's been such a long time since I've received a comment on one of my posts that I'd all but forgotten the butterflies in my stomach that I get when I receive the notification. Your words are kind and sweet, and I'm thrilled and honoured that you decide not only to visit but also to stay every so often. Please continue to come. Maybe I'll bring scones and tea next time.
Truly, thank you. Please continue to be yourself.
Now.
I had been meaning to post this song last week, but it was absolutely nuts and I couldn't. I had, to put it mildly, a very intense week. I got very little sleep, and spent most of my time either working at home on my computer, or at one of my three(!) jobs. It all happened so fast that I didn't know if I'd come up out of the madness in one piece.
But it was also fantastic in a beautiful way. Last night I found myself, several hours after midnight, in a parking lot under a streetlight talking to the kindest friend I've ever had, about fear and love and time and family and life. When it started getting cold, he held me in his arms for a little while before we drove away, and he smelled so good and I rested my head on his shoulder as he said, "Thank you," like in the movies. And I nearly missed when I went to kiss his cheek. "For what?" I asked, because he was the one who had listened to my inane drivel, and I had done nothing, I thought, to warrant gratitude on his part. And, using a line from one of my songs (not that he knew that, of course), he said, "For being you."
I drove all the way home in silence because no song that I could have wanted to play would have been able to precisely match the beating of my heart then.
This song has nothing to do with that. I just wanted to share that experience because if I hadn't been there I wouldn't have thought it could happen to me.
And that's all that will happen, because - so many barriers.
Especially around my heart. They've been recently constructed, but I'm going to allow them to cement themselves in there, shutting out anyone who could possibly hurt me again. I refuse to do this again, ever.
Ever.
I've been broken too irreparably this time.
No, this song came about when I was watching an episode of Glee, which has devolved into something really unwatchable - at least, in my opinion. But there was this one episode where the "kids" were at a dog shelter, and they were singing a song that I can't remember anymore. Despite that, I do remember that there was a line that I totally misheard, and then I ran with the way I had heard it because I just knew in that moment it would be amazing. And that line is, "close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?" So I wrote that down, not knowing where it would lead me but knowing that I wanted to use it. And then it hit me: I'll just write about everything I pretend is love, so that the song will take on its own bittersweet quality. The little moments that you can read into, or the little things that make your heart flutter, even if they weren't meant in any way but friendliness. I wrote about that stuff, and you'll see what I did.
I let the title be a direct answer to the incessant questions of "is it enough." Because I thought "Yes" might be too obvious and obnoxious, I went with "Enough" instead. It's just pathetic enough to be profound, I feel.
Enough
is it enough, to see him when he looks at you?
his eyes so honest you might almost read his mind
is it enough, the way he holds himself as he moves?
one foot after the other, in almost too straight a line
and when he catches you staring and smiles back, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
is it enough, to hear his voice when he speaks?
to be so close you can hear everything he says
is it enough, that he knows you know what he means?
his words like water washing over you then slipping away
trading jokes and getting him to laugh at one, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
BRIDGE:
is it enough to miss him every day,
to be holding each other and be still so far away?
not to want him but to want him, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
is it enough, to pretend this is how it really is?
to expect nothing else than what you've never had
is it enough, to be afraid of anything more than this?
drawing an ever-thicker line between what's good and bad
to be lost in a daydream before you fall asleep, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
to give your heart and get nothing in return, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
doesn't it, doesn't it, doesn't it almost feel like love?
(repeat until fade out)
I don't know what you're going to think but I love this song. It's a triumph, and I think it's trumped "And Her Name is Lonely" as what I consider my best. But you tell me, because I am wrong about just about everything, so this could be just another misconception on my part.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
In an ordinary fairy tale end, there's a promise of a perfect happy end / and I imagine having just short of that is better than nothing...
Keep on dreaming, even if it breaks your heart.
Truly, thank you. Please continue to be yourself.
Now.
I had been meaning to post this song last week, but it was absolutely nuts and I couldn't. I had, to put it mildly, a very intense week. I got very little sleep, and spent most of my time either working at home on my computer, or at one of my three(!) jobs. It all happened so fast that I didn't know if I'd come up out of the madness in one piece.
But it was also fantastic in a beautiful way. Last night I found myself, several hours after midnight, in a parking lot under a streetlight talking to the kindest friend I've ever had, about fear and love and time and family and life. When it started getting cold, he held me in his arms for a little while before we drove away, and he smelled so good and I rested my head on his shoulder as he said, "Thank you," like in the movies. And I nearly missed when I went to kiss his cheek. "For what?" I asked, because he was the one who had listened to my inane drivel, and I had done nothing, I thought, to warrant gratitude on his part. And, using a line from one of my songs (not that he knew that, of course), he said, "For being you."
I drove all the way home in silence because no song that I could have wanted to play would have been able to precisely match the beating of my heart then.
This song has nothing to do with that. I just wanted to share that experience because if I hadn't been there I wouldn't have thought it could happen to me.
And that's all that will happen, because - so many barriers.
Especially around my heart. They've been recently constructed, but I'm going to allow them to cement themselves in there, shutting out anyone who could possibly hurt me again. I refuse to do this again, ever.
Ever.
I've been broken too irreparably this time.
No, this song came about when I was watching an episode of Glee, which has devolved into something really unwatchable - at least, in my opinion. But there was this one episode where the "kids" were at a dog shelter, and they were singing a song that I can't remember anymore. Despite that, I do remember that there was a line that I totally misheard, and then I ran with the way I had heard it because I just knew in that moment it would be amazing. And that line is, "close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?" So I wrote that down, not knowing where it would lead me but knowing that I wanted to use it. And then it hit me: I'll just write about everything I pretend is love, so that the song will take on its own bittersweet quality. The little moments that you can read into, or the little things that make your heart flutter, even if they weren't meant in any way but friendliness. I wrote about that stuff, and you'll see what I did.
I let the title be a direct answer to the incessant questions of "is it enough." Because I thought "Yes" might be too obvious and obnoxious, I went with "Enough" instead. It's just pathetic enough to be profound, I feel.
Enough
is it enough, to see him when he looks at you?
his eyes so honest you might almost read his mind
is it enough, the way he holds himself as he moves?
one foot after the other, in almost too straight a line
and when he catches you staring and smiles back, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
is it enough, to hear his voice when he speaks?
to be so close you can hear everything he says
is it enough, that he knows you know what he means?
his words like water washing over you then slipping away
trading jokes and getting him to laugh at one, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
BRIDGE:
is it enough to miss him every day,
to be holding each other and be still so far away?
not to want him but to want him, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
is it enough, to pretend this is how it really is?
to expect nothing else than what you've never had
is it enough, to be afraid of anything more than this?
drawing an ever-thicker line between what's good and bad
to be lost in a daydream before you fall asleep, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
to give your heart and get nothing in return, is that enough?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
close your eyes, doesn't it almost feel like love?
doesn't it, doesn't it, doesn't it almost feel like love?
(repeat until fade out)
I don't know what you're going to think but I love this song. It's a triumph, and I think it's trumped "And Her Name is Lonely" as what I consider my best. But you tell me, because I am wrong about just about everything, so this could be just another misconception on my part.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
In an ordinary fairy tale end, there's a promise of a perfect happy end / and I imagine having just short of that is better than nothing...
Keep on dreaming, even if it breaks your heart.
17 June 2014
Closed Doors
Tonight, I can't fall asleep to save my life. Not a wink. I don't know why.
So I'm here, with you.
I have this one friend who reads this blog, and after reading the last few posts he asked me why I didn't write more "happy songs." That apparently the last ones were sad. Which, I will concede, they were. I guess.
But I don't do happy. I suppose that's why I'm on anti-depressants. (They don't work, obviously. But I dutifully still take them because I never met a rule I didn't follow.)
So I told him to brace himself - if he thought those were sad, that I can't even think what he'll see in these next few coming up.
Shout out to Alex. Brace yourself, my dear friend.
This is the song I mentioned in the previous post, the one speaking to me shutting down my heart for good. It's because I can't do this, anymore or again. I can't. I need to figure out how to get over this first, which I never will. So this is the easier way to go about it.
When that part about him laughing at something someone else said happened I was so angry I went home and cried for hours. She had been incredibly unpleasant to me, and he was so sweet to her after that, that it dawned on me that he'll never be on my side. And that broke me all over again.
This song was born that night.
It's one verse too long, but it's what had to be said, so please forgive this particular display of verbosity.
Closed Doors
if anyone had asked me I would have said I'm over him
and that it's been a few weeks since his eyes set me on fire
but today I heard him laughing at something someone else said
and the million pieces I broke into would've made me a liar
then somehow it happened that I found myself crying
but we'd been doing so well pretending that we're friends lately
that I didn't have the heart to say I was anything but fine
and I smiled when he looked my way so that he couldn't see through me
CHORUS:
and from now on, I'm locking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
if one more person tells me that I'll find someone someday
I'll escape from this place and never look back
but I'm trying to be someone better than I was yesterday
and I'll never get anywhere running away like that
CHORUS:
so from now on, I'm looking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
BRIDGE:
today he said, "oh, there you are,"
and lent me a book of short stories about love
I don't know what it means
but he still won't take me seriously
so at least I'm done trying to figure it out
I have no right to be jealous since he was never even mine
and it's not so much that I want a piece of his heart
but for once I'd like to feel like someone would take my side
maybe if I didn't always jump right it it wouldn't be this hard
CHORUS:
so from now on, I'm locking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
behind closed doors... (repeat until fade out)
No longer will my heart be too soft.
The next song that's coming is called "Enough," which I finished tonight at work. And I am so proud of it.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
No more "you're the only one," 'cause that's all done with now - this is the last love song I'll ever write for you, this is the last love song I'll ever write for you...
So I'm here, with you.
I have this one friend who reads this blog, and after reading the last few posts he asked me why I didn't write more "happy songs." That apparently the last ones were sad. Which, I will concede, they were. I guess.
But I don't do happy. I suppose that's why I'm on anti-depressants. (They don't work, obviously. But I dutifully still take them because I never met a rule I didn't follow.)
So I told him to brace himself - if he thought those were sad, that I can't even think what he'll see in these next few coming up.
Shout out to Alex. Brace yourself, my dear friend.
This is the song I mentioned in the previous post, the one speaking to me shutting down my heart for good. It's because I can't do this, anymore or again. I can't. I need to figure out how to get over this first, which I never will. So this is the easier way to go about it.
When that part about him laughing at something someone else said happened I was so angry I went home and cried for hours. She had been incredibly unpleasant to me, and he was so sweet to her after that, that it dawned on me that he'll never be on my side. And that broke me all over again.
This song was born that night.
It's one verse too long, but it's what had to be said, so please forgive this particular display of verbosity.
Closed Doors
if anyone had asked me I would have said I'm over him
and that it's been a few weeks since his eyes set me on fire
but today I heard him laughing at something someone else said
and the million pieces I broke into would've made me a liar
then somehow it happened that I found myself crying
but we'd been doing so well pretending that we're friends lately
that I didn't have the heart to say I was anything but fine
and I smiled when he looked my way so that he couldn't see through me
CHORUS:
and from now on, I'm locking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
if one more person tells me that I'll find someone someday
I'll escape from this place and never look back
but I'm trying to be someone better than I was yesterday
and I'll never get anywhere running away like that
CHORUS:
so from now on, I'm looking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
BRIDGE:
today he said, "oh, there you are,"
and lent me a book of short stories about love
I don't know what it means
but he still won't take me seriously
so at least I'm done trying to figure it out
I have no right to be jealous since he was never even mine
and it's not so much that I want a piece of his heart
but for once I'd like to feel like someone would take my side
maybe if I didn't always jump right it it wouldn't be this hard
CHORUS:
so from now on, I'm locking my heart behind a set of closed doors
because that's easier than letting him get to me
and even if, even if my heart's dying for something more
I'll only let myself be a little weak, behind closed doors
behind closed doors... (repeat until fade out)
No longer will my heart be too soft.
The next song that's coming is called "Enough," which I finished tonight at work. And I am so proud of it.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
No more "you're the only one," 'cause that's all done with now - this is the last love song I'll ever write for you, this is the last love song I'll ever write for you...
29 May 2014
Long Way Home
I decided to make a point of finishing this one, since I had been putting it off for a while (started it on 17 April). Also, since I had teased it in the last post.
But, yeah. I know, I know. Nothing for a nearly a month and a half, and then bam! two in as many days. Sorry about that. But there are things, like lyric muses, that you just can't plan. Also, you never know when procrastination might set in and you want to do something, ANYthing, else but what you actually have to do.
Today was one of those days.
This whole month has been one of those days.
I really wish I had written this song earlier, when I had originally wanted to write it. So much of the glory in which it was conceived had faded by yesterday evening, when I finished it, and that which is left will eventually be eroded the rest of the way, just by the most unexciting, ordinary interactions of the everyday. It's a shame, but that's the way it is.
And it's all my own fault, really.
Anyway. This song is about finally putting things out in the open, about saying things you needed to say and he kept putting off discussing, until the dams broke wide open and there you were, both of you being more honest than you've ever been, in the name of making things right and coming to terms with what on earth has happened between the two of you. And, at some point during this conversation - which, inexplicably but logically, happens in the front seat of his car, because that's the only place you've ever been alone together - the most amazing thing happens, and it's not what you expected, or even thought you wanted: you realise that somewhere over the past months, in between falling in love with him and killing that love with each time he hurt you unwittingly, the two of you became such damn good friends. Because you and he are way too similar to be so far apart.
So you make a pact to remain friends. Because that's what he liked best.
And, at the same time, you silently promise yourself to run, far away and as fast as you possibly can, from anyone you meet in the future whose name is David.
Long Way Home
he could drive anything in the world with four wheels
and the only place I'd want to be
is right there next to him in that front seat
looking through the windshield at the small-town streets
'cause sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to not look each other in the eye
and you just might find yourself when you try
to destroy some broken bridges and start anew
he said, "I know I just drove past a shortcut,
but I want to take you back the long way home"
so, without constraints, we just let it go
and two hours passed before I even knew what
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
he drove along without anywhere specific in mind
and the music went in circles, too
he closed the window when I got the shivers halfway through
and we both agreed to a pact not to apologise
'cause sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to promise not to take it personally
when you're both afraid of your words being mean
but things have to break completely in order to begin anew
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
BRIDGE:
but when he opened the car door, I still left him with a lie
'cause I wouldn't be me without a little something to hide
but sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to not give it all away at once
and to stand on your own and not be anyone's
you first have to know what it's like to lose you
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
he said, "I know I just drove past a shortcut,
but I want to take you back, the long way home..."
The lie I left him with was a vital one (necessary for self-preservation), but still one I regret somehow. I told him I no longer like him. But that was the price to pay, I guess, to remain friends, so it's one I have to live with.
And I also wanted to say this: I hereby resign from writing love songs. The sad ones, the painful ones, the broken ones were always my best, anyway. And I've resigned myself to the fact that those latter experiences are the only ones I'll ever know, so that makes my walking away from love songs ever so much easier. Seriously, did I ever write one that was even somewhat decent? I don't think so; pain is my strong suit.
The next song, "Closed Doors," will deal with this. I may post it later today.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
But secretly they're saviours.
But, yeah. I know, I know. Nothing for a nearly a month and a half, and then bam! two in as many days. Sorry about that. But there are things, like lyric muses, that you just can't plan. Also, you never know when procrastination might set in and you want to do something, ANYthing, else but what you actually have to do.
Today was one of those days.
This whole month has been one of those days.
I really wish I had written this song earlier, when I had originally wanted to write it. So much of the glory in which it was conceived had faded by yesterday evening, when I finished it, and that which is left will eventually be eroded the rest of the way, just by the most unexciting, ordinary interactions of the everyday. It's a shame, but that's the way it is.
And it's all my own fault, really.
Anyway. This song is about finally putting things out in the open, about saying things you needed to say and he kept putting off discussing, until the dams broke wide open and there you were, both of you being more honest than you've ever been, in the name of making things right and coming to terms with what on earth has happened between the two of you. And, at some point during this conversation - which, inexplicably but logically, happens in the front seat of his car, because that's the only place you've ever been alone together - the most amazing thing happens, and it's not what you expected, or even thought you wanted: you realise that somewhere over the past months, in between falling in love with him and killing that love with each time he hurt you unwittingly, the two of you became such damn good friends. Because you and he are way too similar to be so far apart.
So you make a pact to remain friends. Because that's what he liked best.
And, at the same time, you silently promise yourself to run, far away and as fast as you possibly can, from anyone you meet in the future whose name is David.
Long Way Home
he could drive anything in the world with four wheels
and the only place I'd want to be
is right there next to him in that front seat
looking through the windshield at the small-town streets
'cause sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to not look each other in the eye
and you just might find yourself when you try
to destroy some broken bridges and start anew
he said, "I know I just drove past a shortcut,
but I want to take you back the long way home"
so, without constraints, we just let it go
and two hours passed before I even knew what
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
he drove along without anywhere specific in mind
and the music went in circles, too
he closed the window when I got the shivers halfway through
and we both agreed to a pact not to apologise
'cause sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to promise not to take it personally
when you're both afraid of your words being mean
but things have to break completely in order to begin anew
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
BRIDGE:
but when he opened the car door, I still left him with a lie
'cause I wouldn't be me without a little something to hide
but sometimes the only way to tell the truth
is to not give it all away at once
and to stand on your own and not be anyone's
you first have to know what it's like to lose you
CHORUS:
by the end, I was cross-legged, barefoot in the front seat
he said something funny about the colour on my toes
I'd been angry for so long I had forgotten how friendship feels
so I let myself fall back into it, head over heels
and every mile he drove was one more step on the long road back to me
I was relearning who I am as he was driving us the long way home
he said, "I know I just drove past a shortcut,
but I want to take you back, the long way home..."
The lie I left him with was a vital one (necessary for self-preservation), but still one I regret somehow. I told him I no longer like him. But that was the price to pay, I guess, to remain friends, so it's one I have to live with.
And I also wanted to say this: I hereby resign from writing love songs. The sad ones, the painful ones, the broken ones were always my best, anyway. And I've resigned myself to the fact that those latter experiences are the only ones I'll ever know, so that makes my walking away from love songs ever so much easier. Seriously, did I ever write one that was even somewhat decent? I don't think so; pain is my strong suit.
The next song, "Closed Doors," will deal with this. I may post it later today.
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
But secretly they're saviours.
28 May 2014
All a Lie
I have a strange relationship with this song.
The reason I haven't posted in ages - though I've written two full and many, many partial songs - is because I was waiting for myself to finish a specific one ("Long Way Home"), as though that would be the ONE song worth waiting for.
It's not.
It might be, when I finish it. But right now, it's not. I have three verses and a chorus, but it's not enough. And the mind-space in which I was when I started writing it (nearly two months ago!) is one with which I am no longer familiar, which is the primary problem. But I will try to bring it all back, because I have to. I owe it to the girl I was then to finish it.
None of which, of course, has anything to do with this song. So I'll start again.
I have a strange relationship with this song.
It's a relationship based on the fact that I love the moment it's about. Love it completely - and relive it often, still getting goosebumps after all this time.
But I wrote the song out of some masochistic motivation to force myself to hate the moment instead. Because it's safer. It's easier.
(It also didn't work - mostly because it's hard for even me to convince myself of something that's not true.)
So I wrote this because I got scared, and thought that hurting myself (by disfiguring a sweet memory) would be the best way to deal with that - which, obviously, it wasn't. It never is, no matter how often I try it.
Because here we are.
I don't know how much background you may need for this, but it's about a friend of mine. A friendship I lucked into, and I think both of us got there by accident. He's someone I didn't know I needed, didn't know I wanted to have at this point in my life - but when he's not around, or we are of necessity aloof to each other, I miss him. We don't even have that much in common, aside from our interests in hockey (thank goodness he's also a Devils fan) and other sports. But we are both, in one way or another, broken, even if in this we also differ: he stubbornly (but perhaps wisely, given what he's told me) wishes to remain permanently so, whereas I am afraid of never getting all of my pieces back together.
And I think I would, or could, fall for him, if I weren't so hell-bent on breaking my own heart. (Well, also, if he who has my heart weren't so hell-bent on breaking it, over and over, for me.)
This song is about the first time he hugged me.
I was hurting, one Friday night the first week of March. I had come so close to spending the evening with the aforementioned "he who has my heart," but things broke between us and, even though I didn't know at the time how much more would break before things got "better," I must have sensed something, because I was, as I said, hurting. Badly. Nearly as badly as possible.
And he could tell.
Later, I got so afraid of just being another conquest* he'll discard just as soon as possible that I wrote this song.
*But it was just a freaking hug. I'm seriously insane.
All a Lie
you know, you really had me going for a pretty little while
things I'd never said before, I was saying to you
never thought I'd be taken in by a single pretty little line
but after four or five times it started to sound like the truth
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
you know, I'm starting to think you got what you wanted from me
it felt like a good idea then, but now I'm feeling sick
never thought I'd want you to be a discarded memory
and I can still smell you on me so I need to shower real quick
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
BRIDGE:
I lived every day for someone else, and you fell for it
this has twisted up in my mind and now I'm over it
but still I said we should make a habit of it
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
oh-whoa, wasn't it all a lie?
In the weeks since, he became my first kiss on the cheek. It sounds so silly, I know, but it means more to me - especially the way he said "thank you" - than my first (and last) kiss.
Four years ago, already?
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
Every day, to make myself feel bad, I'll start to wonder if this was the thing to do.
The reason I haven't posted in ages - though I've written two full and many, many partial songs - is because I was waiting for myself to finish a specific one ("Long Way Home"), as though that would be the ONE song worth waiting for.
It's not.
It might be, when I finish it. But right now, it's not. I have three verses and a chorus, but it's not enough. And the mind-space in which I was when I started writing it (nearly two months ago!) is one with which I am no longer familiar, which is the primary problem. But I will try to bring it all back, because I have to. I owe it to the girl I was then to finish it.
None of which, of course, has anything to do with this song. So I'll start again.
I have a strange relationship with this song.
It's a relationship based on the fact that I love the moment it's about. Love it completely - and relive it often, still getting goosebumps after all this time.
But I wrote the song out of some masochistic motivation to force myself to hate the moment instead. Because it's safer. It's easier.
(It also didn't work - mostly because it's hard for even me to convince myself of something that's not true.)
So I wrote this because I got scared, and thought that hurting myself (by disfiguring a sweet memory) would be the best way to deal with that - which, obviously, it wasn't. It never is, no matter how often I try it.
Because here we are.
I don't know how much background you may need for this, but it's about a friend of mine. A friendship I lucked into, and I think both of us got there by accident. He's someone I didn't know I needed, didn't know I wanted to have at this point in my life - but when he's not around, or we are of necessity aloof to each other, I miss him. We don't even have that much in common, aside from our interests in hockey (thank goodness he's also a Devils fan) and other sports. But we are both, in one way or another, broken, even if in this we also differ: he stubbornly (but perhaps wisely, given what he's told me) wishes to remain permanently so, whereas I am afraid of never getting all of my pieces back together.
And I think I would, or could, fall for him, if I weren't so hell-bent on breaking my own heart. (Well, also, if he who has my heart weren't so hell-bent on breaking it, over and over, for me.)
This song is about the first time he hugged me.
I was hurting, one Friday night the first week of March. I had come so close to spending the evening with the aforementioned "he who has my heart," but things broke between us and, even though I didn't know at the time how much more would break before things got "better," I must have sensed something, because I was, as I said, hurting. Badly. Nearly as badly as possible.
And he could tell.
Later, I got so afraid of just being another conquest* he'll discard just as soon as possible that I wrote this song.
*But it was just a freaking hug. I'm seriously insane.
All a Lie
you know, you really had me going for a pretty little while
things I'd never said before, I was saying to you
never thought I'd be taken in by a single pretty little line
but after four or five times it started to sound like the truth
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
you know, I'm starting to think you got what you wanted from me
it felt like a good idea then, but now I'm feeling sick
never thought I'd want you to be a discarded memory
and I can still smell you on me so I need to shower real quick
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
BRIDGE:
I lived every day for someone else, and you fell for it
this has twisted up in my mind and now I'm over it
but still I said we should make a habit of it
CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
oh-whoa, wasn't it all a lie?
In the weeks since, he became my first kiss on the cheek. It sounds so silly, I know, but it means more to me - especially the way he said "thank you" - than my first (and last) kiss.
Four years ago, already?
Much love, and thank you for the musik.
Every day, to make myself feel bad, I'll start to wonder if this was the thing to do.
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