In Her Own Write

You're damn right there is.

This is the moment that you know

that you told her that you loved her but you don’t.

You touch her skin and then you think that

she is beautiful, but she don’t mean a thing to me.

Yeah, she is beautiful, but she don’t mean a thing to me.

I spent two weeks in Silver Lake.

The California sun cascading down my face.

There was a girl with light brown streaks, and

she was beautiful but she didn’t mean a thing to me.

Yeah, she was beautiful, but she didn’t mean a thing to me.

I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking

as we moved together in the dark.

And all the friends that I was telling, all the playful mispellings

and every bite I gave you left a mark.

Tiny vessles oozed into your neck and formed

the bruises that you said you didn’t want to fade

but they did and so did I that day.

All I see are dark grey clouds in the distance

moving closer with every hour.

So then you ask, “Is something wrong?”

I think, “You’re damn right there is, but we can’t talk about it now.

No, we can’t talk about it now.”

So one last touch and then you’ll go.

And we’ll pretend that it meant so much more.

But it was vile and it was cheap, and

you are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me.

Yeah, you are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me.

…Ben Gibbard is such a stand up guy. I love that this song embodies a relationship that most people stray away from expressing. It’s honest, it’s real. I respect that Death Cab for Cutie wrote such a truthful piece. Most women are naive enough to think that circumstances like these mean something to a man. It happens and I’m so glad that someone could put this to a melody and perform it with pride.

One foot in front of the other.

You were happy once; you were sunshine and smiles

and a brightness that radiated.

You may be cloudy now, you may not want to sing.

You may just want to fold inside of yourself,

on the oldest couch you can find,

by the biggest window, and watch it rain.

You used to find that little things made you happy;

now you can’t even find the big things.

Somehow, along the way, you lost yourself.

One foot in front of the other, sweetheart, and you will find your way back.

Maggie and Milly and Molly and May

Maggie and Milly and Molly and May

went down to the beach (to play one day)

and Maggie discovered a shell that sang

so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

Milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and Molly was chased by a horrible thing

which raced sideways while blowing bubbles: and

May came home with a smooth round stone

as small as a world and as large as alone

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

- E.E. Cummings

It's Getting Hard to Be Someone.

…but it all works out. Right? John Lennon said it so I inevitable believe it. I can only hope that it works itself out in a timely manner, I’m terribly impatient. I read a few lines from ‘Strawberry Fields’ on a random Tumblr post last night and it really got me thinking. The lyrics were “Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It’s getting hard to be someone but it all works out. It doesn’t matter much to me.” I know this song is supposed to be somewhat nonsense, a play on words, but I’m more than sure that Lennon/McCartney had some sort of underlying point to everything they wrote. Anyways, the purpose of this entry was not to analyze the lyrics of this song. People tell you all of your life to become someone, something, to do significant things. You can hear it all you want, but until you realize that you want to consciously become someone, someone special, someone who means things to people, it doesn’t mean a thing. I’ve recently decided that I want to become someone. I want to be something to someone. If it’s just one person that I happen to touch, I’m okay with that. I’m not sure exactly how to go about becoming who I want to be, but I decided that just living my life day to day and making decisions for me will eventually get me there. I don’t want to be impatient. I want to be able to savor the good things in life. I don’t want to miss a beat because I’ve been worrying. I want to learn to work hard. I want to learn how to love and be loved. I want to make my parents proud to have had me. I want my friends to be proud to call me their friend. I want my brother to be as proud of me as I am of him. This is all very easy to type out, the tricky part is overcoming the crashing of my heart agaisnt my ribcage, and the incessant banging of my brain against my skull. I’m hoping that it does all work out in due time. If I have anymore revelations to how one is to go about finding themselves, I will surely let you know. However, I don’t think there is a textbook method. I think it’s individualized to each person, to each situation. So if any of you have any sort of tricks of the trade, share them kindly. Please & thank you.