how hard we tried

[thanate]

Can you remember wanting desperately to hold onto something, with all your heart (or soul, or whatever you call your capacity for wanting things) that you not only don't want anymore, but can't really remember why it was so important to you?

--- I was searching my i-pod this afternoon for *something* that I hadn't played several times in the last month or two, and that Donna wouldn't complain about, and came up with lagged_variable's slightly inappropriate baby songs. And, as I noticed when I first got a copy of the CD, it has Ani's "Both Hands" on it, which I inexpicably fail to hate. In fact, somewhere in the last nearly twelve years since I first heard and detested the whole CD, it's wired itself into my subconscious, and turned up on the list of songs I want to play over and over again. (Possibly this means I should let another little bit of my 17-year-old self die and give Ani another try as an artist?)

And it came on around 2 pm, and shot me straight from nearly productive into staring-out-the-window braindead in about 30 seconds.

Partly, it's just that it falls into that elusive category of songs that I think are absolutely gorgeous musically... and a lot of them seem to be break-up/not-love songs (Duran Duran-Ordinary World, Dandy Warhols- the Last High, Eddie from Ohio- This is Me...) but right now I think it's because it's a metaphor of how I feel like life right now. Here I am, and I do these things, and the edges of them wear me down until I can't stand to rub up against anything anymore. And I wear out the enthusiasm for things I used to have, until I haven't got any enthusiasm left sometimes. And the thing I learn by living through it is that certain things won't change about the way I am, and how the world goes on. Or how people are...

And so I'm listening to this song, and she's singing about the last gasp before an inevitable break-up, and I'm hearing the slow decline of how I manage my life, and finality and mortality, and how you try so hard with your Kilroy was here, or whatever you're trying to say, and ultimately, it's all going to be futile.


and I am walking out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan of the dialtone
again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go, and I can't get through...

and of course, it's not like you can just break up with life and move on.

...sorry to be so depressing; I'm not, I think, explaining the insides of my head fully, because I don't think it's quite as tragic as I've probably implied...

Comments

*nodnod*

[fishy1.livejournal.com]

the old 'that was a lovely song -until someone started singing' thing.

Re: *nodnod*

[thanate.livejournal.com]

I was thinking more "thought maggots" myself... some fleeting image comes and hatches the latest set and you're full of little squirmy take-over-your-brain creatures.