Sunday, March 19, 2017


I'll just keep with a music theme in my writing until songs stop being the main precipitator, (Eh, more like condensator)l of my most current feelings and ideas.  That's okay, yeah?  Good.

I can't even remember how I "discovered" Regina Spektor:  I think most possibly from the youtube video suggestions that are stacked on the right side of the screen, when I looked up a video by a similar artist.  Oh. I think it might have been NPR! Fresh Air with Terry Gross.  I'm sure of it.  Spektor famously left the Soviet Union during Perestroika, leaving her piano behind.  All of this was important because finding out she was Russian, I bought the CD for my little sister.  My sister graduated from high school in 2006.  She is half Ukrainian (Transcarpathian), and was interested in and excelled in Russian Studies in high school and college.  She continued to read and learn on her own. She is very smart, that sister of mine.  She recently shared books with me written by Belarusian journalist Svetlana Alexievich, which have educated me greatly.

I'm not really planning on writing any more about Soviet/Russian history, but I'm giving you some background on the context of how I heard Regina Spektor's songs when I first heard them.  You might better understand how I viewed her music before I happened upon her song "Fidelity" several years later in my life, with a different brain. 

Spektor isn't only a "Russian" singer, but an Indie singer.  She's a beautiful singer:  unique, folksy, and very intelligent. 

I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music

I loved many of her songs, and really enjoyed most of her albums... but she wasn't an artist that I kept in my regular rotation.  I'm not sure why.  I really did like her.  I loved her albums Soviet KitschBegin to Hope, yet, it wasn't until I heard the Jasmine Thompson cover of "Fidelity" on a "Sia Station" I had created on Pandora, that I really felt the words, as opposed to hearing the quirky style of Spektor's version, when I was younger and in different circumstances.  We change every day, I think.  We change and hear, taste, smell, feel things a bit differently.  We should change and grow.  We shouldn't stop moving.

And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart

I was cleaning the house, and the Pandora station was playing from the television.  It was the song, and hearing it from her voice, and her pared down, acoustic version, that I truly listened.  And I stopped.  I had never heard Jasmine Thompson.  She mostly does covers.  I sat on the floor staring at the screen, which as you probably know, doesn't change when you listen to Pandora.  It's a black screen, with the artist's album artwork, and then the title of the song and name of the artist in white lettering. And I listened.

I never love nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting by heart truly
I got lost
In the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind
All this music
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart

Did I think she was writing about regret for having fallen in love?  Maybe it's more that cliche idea that "it's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." She does say "suppose" before what seems to be the recollection of fond memories.  Is she trying to imagine who she would be, as an individual, without those experiences and memories?  Or, did she learn to let go and open herself up to love, even if it seems bittersweet.  And...

And suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall
Just to break my fall
Just to break my fall
Break my fall
Break my fall

...Maybe she's just living in an imaginary world, though.  Was she just trying to believe in and feel things that didn't seem possible for her?  Did he start to find a way to make meaning out of all the music, and voices, and words in her head to try to stop breaking her own heart.  She had to break her own fall.  Otherwise she'd be falling... She'd just be falling forever. 

How about me?  I was listing on a Pandora radio station, playing through the speakers of a television.  I was staring at that screen, and listening, and I thought, oh... I have been lost for a long time:  and I knew it.  I knew I was looping.  I was a needle stuck on the vinyl LP, and the record player wasn't balanced, was it?  It wasn't level.  I was trapped in one groove.  And who do you talk to about that, because being in my own head for so long was obviously very destructive... Hmmmm...   

"Hey, so... I'm not here... um... I'm not sure how to come back.  You have any ideas?" 

Oh!  Regina Spektor has a song called "On the Radio", which was also on her Begin to Hope album. Maybe I should also mention that song, since it expresses the, "Hey so..."  moment in time, quite clearly. Hear one song... feel another...  That's poetry? That's life.

(...On the radio
We heard November Rain
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again...)

Oh goodness...  I'm off the rails and this post is getting a little confusing, me thinks. 
Original artists.
Belarusian journalists.
Song covers.  
Song Lyrics. 

I'm either doing an exceptional, adept job weaving all of these subjects together to explain a greater message, or I'm scattered and losing my focus, and your attention...  Boo!  

Wake up!  Obviously I'm super thoughtful and everything I write makes sense.  I don't lose my focus, blah, blah, blah.  I'm so super, hyper-focused you probably can't follow what I'm saying... You don't even know where I'm going for paragraphs, and then you get to the end and your mind is blown. It all makes complete sense.  

And Fidelity! Fidelity (fi·del·i·ty fəˈdelədē/ noun) *faithfulness to a person, cause, or belief, demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support. "he sought only the strictest fidelity to justice" synonyms: loyalty, allegiance, obedience.

antonyms:  disloyalty.
*sexual faithfulness to a spouse or partner. synonyms: faithfulness, loyalty, constancy, true-heartedness,
formal troth.
antonyms:infidelity, disloyalty

Is it ironic she chose to title the song "Fidelity"? So often we are not faithful to our true nature, and not really showing up in life.  I mean, by not living in conscious awareness.  She's lost in the sounds.  If rehearsed often enough, do we begin to believe the folklore we script for ourselves. We drift so reflexively into ignorant, yet steadfast-held beliefs, keeping our world small.  Its smallness might serve to make it all the more
comforting, or help us feel in control, when we just aren't.  Can we protect our hearts truly?  Should we?  Or couldn't we let it beat to its own rhythm.  Our hearts.  Our lives.  Ourselves.  

I hear in my mind all of these voices
I hear in my mind all of these words
I hear in my mind all of this music

Breaks my Heart
Breaks my heart

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Crazy, crazy, crazy.


Look at you kids with your vintage music
Comin' through satellites while cruisin'
You're part of the past, but now you're the future
Signals crossing can get confusing

It's enough just to make you feel crazy, crazy, crazy
Sometimes, it's enough just to make you feel crazy

You get ready, you get all dressed up
To go nowhere in particular
Back to work or the coffee shop

Doesn't matter cause it's enough
To be young and in love
To be young and in love

I can't write about Banks, and not write about Lana Dey Rey, particularly when she comes out with a new single like "Love."  Oh, Lana, I loved you when I was discouraged from listening to your music, (maybe I was listening obsessively when I was not feeling very well mentally, I'll admit that), because your songs can be very haunting and depressing.  I'm already a depressed gal, so I can see why moody, low tempo songs, and fatalistic lyrics might feed the darkness I experience.  Ah, but when I heard Lana's new song, I felt something hopeful. I shan't be chastised for listening to "Love", because it's optimistic and... Lovely.

Look at you kids, you know you're the coolest
The world is yours and you can't refuse it
Seen so much, you could get the blues
But that don't mean that you should abuse it

Though it's enough just to make you go crazy, crazy, crazy
I know, it's enough just to make you go crazy, crazy, crazy

But you get ready, you get all dressed up
To go nowhere in particular
Back to work or the coffee shop
It don't matter because it's enough
To be young and in love
To be young and in love

Don't worry, baby
Don't worry, baby

When I heard this song, before I saw the official video, I could imagine my college years, and a collage of our experiences... stumbling and laughing on our way home from the bars, sitting in the sun on the green between classes talking about everything except our classes, and being... young.  
Just kids, we were.  

It was perfect, when I think back, although I wouldn't want to relive the experience.  At the time, we were very innocent, and we all loved each other.  We drank too much.  We danced every weekend.  We ate too much pizza.  We overslept.  We stayed up too late.  We kissed. We talked about what was present and relevant to our lives at that moment.  We lived in every moment, right then.  We didn't talk about the past...  We didn't really.  We could tell our friends something once, if it was important, and it was never brought up again.  It was in the past, and we were always living in the future:  What were we doing that night, that weekend?  We lived in the moment.   

Maybe that's what all 18-22 year old kids do.  Maybe it's the only time any of us get to live that way?  It's funny that maybe college is the escape, when so many young people believe they are free if they graduate from high school and don't have to go to school any longer if they don't want to.  But, it's the independence, and freedom of a youth we didn't fully explore, living at home, while we attended high school. Those four years at UVM my friends and I were absolutely irresponsible; yet in the midst of all our hangovers, mistakes, fun, and learning, we didn't even know we were figuring out how to be grown ups at the same time. We didn't think about that.  We didn't need to.  We were "grown up," but so very young... and the responsibilities?  
Pass your classes.
Don't party too much.
Appreciate your education.
Don't get 3:00 am noise violations...   
Stay alive?  

 We did.  We were alive, I think.  We were alive the entire time.

And it's enough just to make me go crazy, crazy, crazy
It's enough just to make me go crazy, crazy, crazy

I get ready, I get all dressed up
To go nowhere in particular
It doesn't matter if I'm not enough
For the future or the things to come
'Cause I'm young and in love
I'm young and in love

Don't worry, baby
Don't worry, baby
Don't worry, baby

        -Lana Del Rey, 2017

Wednesday, February 22, 2017


It's clear that over the last 5 years I have developed the ridiculous propensity to dwell on negative aspects of my being, and certain events that have hurt me, when instead I should be moving forward and past all of that. I haven't changed, even though I know exactly what has happened and why they happened, and what should be done, and what I should do to be healthy: Not dwell.

I write about it here all the time!  I know what's wrong.  The things I know and should know are completely obvious.  I'm not so difficult to understand...  (It isn't!  Right?  I don't think it is, but people around me seem to find me confusing, and because of that, I allow myself to fall into confusion and self-doubt?  I don't know how I float in denial, as I do, when I am a smart lady).


Usually when you write about your life, it means you have really thought it through, or you at least done some analysis and thinking about life.  I don't know what the Hell I have been doing.  

I mean, I could quickly summarize all that haunts me, eats me alive, and makes me really sad in a list.  No strain of mind would be required to write down 10-15 single words, one under the other, that represent all that I have dedicated the past years of my existence straining my mind over, to the point of insanity.  Maybe it would just be 5 words.  Yeah, I think it's just, like 5 things.  5 or 6 things.

And the thing is, the more I keep doing this to myself, the more I hurt everyone in my life too.  I'm not only self-destructive, I have a wide blast range, and no one around me is safe.

Insanity is knowing, yet I keep going along the way I always have?  Yeah, but I know I can change and get better.  I want to. I have to.  I know I will.

Here's something:  Insanity is thinking other people will change.  I even want to believe that I can just squinch my eyes tight and wish it--just wish that at that very moment the other people would just fucking get it, and do everything just right... just right...  or do what I really need them to do--they will suddenly understand.  Me.  Is that selfish?  I want other people to change to help me, when I am not necessarily helping myself.

That's craziness.  I engage in it daily: I will not think about the changes I need to make for myself, in myself, I instead decide I have made people around me the way they are, and they can be fixed if I really, really... need them to.  So with this thinking, I get stuck.  I am not letting myself grow or change, as I wait for people in my life to do something more, or do something differently.  I blame myself when another day goes by and I haven't successfully mind-melded them into fixing things, and understanding everything.
Just to understand me?


I guess that's what I want to believe and know.  And I can't wish someone in my life, as I imagine it: to float along on a soft cloud, through the tunnels of my brain, seeing clearly who I am, who I was, what I think, who I want to be, and have their departure from this ride to be enlightening and make everything all better.  If I don't understand myself, should I expect anyone to understand me?  If I actually, truly do understand myself, and also know that I am not this black curtain of secrecy and impenetrable darkness, yet realize...  Yeah.  (I know no one reads these, so I have completely degraded to writing in a stream of consciousness)... Yeah. I blame myself, if anyone in my life doesn't see me, or know me, or understand me, or know how much I need help, or need them, or need... something... else...   


So, in that way, I've absolutely lead myself into an unhealthy cycle of depression and self-abuse.  I can even say that as I type this moment--even with that list of words I speak of, clear and blaring--I am still dwelling on every single item, while also trying to think of how I can spin this into a post about growth and happiness, and self-worth and self-awareness.  You know, like I was getting better; like I am getting better; like I have figured out how to move on with my life, past anything that has kept me stuck.  Nope.  I might be? I haven't. 

It should be easy, like a computer, or an email account, in some ways.  When will I delete?  Why can't I delete?  Why do I keep everything all here?  It's all in my head.  I keep everything.  I keep everything.  I go back and reread, relive, every damn thing that I know hurts the most to see again and again.  When will I let go?  

Sometimes, I convince myself that keeping everything filed away, reminds me of the things I don't want to ever experience again, or that it keeps me grounded if I don't try to hide things away from myself, or pretend for everyone else.  That way of thinking has worked out great for me. Absolutely.  Not.  Absolutely not.  Reminding myself, or having visual and linguistic reminders of anything I should forget, have only made the past completely palpable.  I go through all the emotions, and end up freshly destroyed, newly smashed to pieces.  
I do this daily.  Pretty much daily.
I would say, most certainly, daily.

What kills me is the... what?  The stuff?  The freaking stuff I keep replaying, have nothing to do with the most important people and goal in my life right now.  I focus on stuff that holds me back or keeps me from being fully aware of now and what I need to do and should do.  The list of shit is overriding the absolutely most important words to me:  
Michael and Stella.  

I should be able to type my name and not erase it from that list, huh?  I did, but I deleted it and added health.  And that's the problem.  When I can put my own fucking name on the list of things that I care about and that are important to me, and actually believe it, than I think I can actually get past the stuff that makes me insane. I trust other people to tell me who I am, and what I'm worth, instead of feeling any of that within myself.  I do that too often.  Maybe 

That makes it my problem, and mine alone: Something I need to fix.  I need to fix it.  I like things fixed and all better and feeling better, but I keep forgetting about fixing myself.  I keep forgetting that I'm worth fixing.  I sound like a whiney, self-centered teenager.  Aaaa.  That's how I think.  Don't ever do that to yourself.  Never get into this mind-fuck and negativity, that I have let spread through me, and take over.  It's selfish to have let it grow and entwine itself in my insides.  I fed it.  I nurtured it.  

So now, will I stop?  

Alcohol doesn't help.  That is a now.  A now I know, and won't let happen anymore.  That's no longer a not yet.  It became an immediately.  That's good, yeah?

Shouldn't doctors figure this shit out?
Shouldn't I know I've already figured it out.