songs

my own

- anserito, i am forever indebted to you.


when i told you about the only friend i had made that helped me feel understood, i told you he left his passion too. the thing that i want, the thing that he thought he wanted, it was just a thought, not really what he wanted to do. you went quiet and you said he gave up. i never felt that way about him, especially since i saw myself in the decision he made. i was doing the same thing- giving up? but you never let me think that i did the same. all you did was go quiet, and you said he gave up. you were so disappointed. you made me feel like i wasn't done yet. maybe things could change. i don't really know what i want, but i feel like you know what i want. is it naive to think that you might know me better than i know myself right now? or is it because i'm sick of being told everything that i do know about myself isn't accurate. i don't know. you said "people like us" and it felt so stupidly real. like maybe somehow somewhere deep down everything you were saying to me wasn't just a performance. i want to believe it wasn't, and that it isn't. i am afraid. i'm excited. i'm eager to see the art that we make.

Be Safe - The Cribs
this song does me better than a marlboro gold 100
currently elliott smithing. i get it.

the giver - sarah kinsley

without any deeper analysis, i would immediately say this is likely written about sharing affection with an unreciprocating lover, but with virtue of my lyrical preferences, i like to make connections that mean whatever i want them to mean. i think that is the beauty of lyricism, it's never meant to really mean one thing. i have a gripe with artists who prioritize single-meaning compoundings of words.

But I'm a giver and he's immune
He is hungry for someone but doesn't know who
I'm a giver, he's the moon
And I reach and I reach and I forgive the girl who let you

this part, it means the most to me. "his" immunity and hunger contradict one another, representing our writer's ill fated relationship. the result of a man who paradoxically wants to receive said affection, just without the correct target at hand, sends our giver into spiral, extending herself only so, so far. devil's advocate would say is it really his fault? maybe he is just a man, yearning, seeking comfort in the accessible avenue of the unlucky giver. "i forgive the girl who let you." now that's a bittersweet ending, closing off with the sweetness of self-forgiveness. something i think we all struggle with. a lot.