I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours
I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey
Hidden in the bottom drawer
I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine
Lend me some fresh air
I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
I don't want to be your babysitter
You're a very big boy now
I don't want to be your mother
I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months
Show me the back door
- Alanis Morissette ‘Not the Doctor’
- Alanis Morissette ‘Not the Doctor’
I’ve finally succumbed to blogging song lyrics. It had to happen – and Alanis, too! I must confess a fondness for her self-help lyrical journeys and passion for squeezing big words and concepts uncomfortably into the song lyric formula. All I can say is that I hope always to remember that I never want to be a care-taker ever, ever again (unless I do actually push out a baby).
Here are two other things I never want to forget again:
The subtle joys of listening to the small internal voice of sanity.
That big, dramatic production number that is chaotic girlie emotions is such an overwhelming thing to deal with. It’s so easy to let that take over. The small voice of sanity speaks the whole time, and you hear what it’s saying, but it gets drowned out but these loud, messy emotions. You know the voice is only speaking truth, and healthiness, and dignity. But the emotions promise Wagnerian spectacles – and somehow at the time that’s more compelling.
At a certain point, necessity meant paying closer attention to the voice of reason. And I actually did what it said to. And I felt better. And slowly, it got louder, and started to drown out the dramatics. And my life got less tempestuous, and I felt a lot better for it. Does this mean I’m finally growing up?
Here are two other things I never want to forget again:
The subtle joys of listening to the small internal voice of sanity.
That big, dramatic production number that is chaotic girlie emotions is such an overwhelming thing to deal with. It’s so easy to let that take over. The small voice of sanity speaks the whole time, and you hear what it’s saying, but it gets drowned out but these loud, messy emotions. You know the voice is only speaking truth, and healthiness, and dignity. But the emotions promise Wagnerian spectacles – and somehow at the time that’s more compelling.
At a certain point, necessity meant paying closer attention to the voice of reason. And I actually did what it said to. And I felt better. And slowly, it got louder, and started to drown out the dramatics. And my life got less tempestuous, and I felt a lot better for it. Does this mean I’m finally growing up?
That good people who like you for who (and what) you are, care about your wellbeing and treat you well are the only people worth sharing time with.
No matter how seductive, exciting, delicious and breathtaking (sometimes that’s fear and not swoony chemistry) someone is, if they don’t act like they give a shit about what is actually good and healthy for you, run like the wind.
No matter how seductive, exciting, delicious and breathtaking (sometimes that’s fear and not swoony chemistry) someone is, if they don’t act like they give a shit about what is actually good and healthy for you, run like the wind.
1 comment:
there be nothing wrong with posting song lyrics my dear! sometimes i think that i subconsciously fashion my whole life around them...
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