About feeling better…

So I’ve been listening to Regina Spektor’s song “Better” and wondering about the lyrics. I want to push my politics against this song so much.

I think it’s a song about coming out. The repeated lyrics of the song are about that thing that concerned parents do for their kids — kissing sore spots — because it’ll make the child feel better or at least a little less distressed. But the metaphor of someone having the ability to kiss her problems away goes beyond parental ties to romantic love, too. Everyone wants a partner who can kiss her troubles away… until that partner is someone she feels she can’t share with the world.

The two women in the song are so close that they’re practically joined by blood, similar to how a marriage bond and sex typically unites bloodlines and family lines between a man and a woman. But… the town sees blood ties as only blood. It doesn’t matter how close they are — they aren’t united in a way that others can see them. And even though one of them wants to speak up and out about it, one girl doesn’t even want to name it. She gets sadder and sadder about it.

Naturally Regina is playing the role of the insistent sister. She wants to make everything better with a kiss — except for the resistant sister, the kisses only hurt more because she feels she can’t say her name out loud to anyone, not even insistent sister Regina. So Regina tries to understand but she doesn’t, even though she cares. And the resistant sister builds a wall of pain that Regina tries to kiss and kiss away.

But what if kissing isn’t enough?

“debauchery box” – a poem

a man looked for his definition in a corporate directory

and he saw a picture of adolf eichmann

and wondered what it meant

so he went to his boss and he said

i think there is a problem

i think everyday

i think you should help me fix this

and his boss went to the supervisor

and his supervisor pressed the red button

and the c.e.o. called the man to his office the next day

and they sat over steamed milk and espresso

the c.e.o. told him he had three weeks’ paid vacation

he put a sombrero on the man’s head because

he needed time to himself

so the man went on a company retreat one week

and he walked around in the glass penalty box

where his happiest hour is mixed with spirits and juices

and his nature walk doesn’t involve talking to birds

his paths have been chosen for him

and if he chose not to explore nature on the carefully prepared

pebble walks through streams designed to keep you dry

he could approach the people on the corners

for quick fixes and lays

mergers and acquisitions

as long as he stayed in the glass penalty box

for thinking once and thinking everyday

well the man tried his best

but he was still thinking until one day

he wandered away from too many sharp corners

sunk his feet into too many deep puddles

and got embarrassingly lost in thought

nearly drowned in thought at one point

he wanted to die in thought and not sensation

his suits were too expensive for a funeral

so the corporation had to activate his GPS

because he was on the margins of the box

where they had no welcome reception

and they tried again to drown him in sensation

they sent electric currents to the man

but he only felt stimulated

they sent dogs with sharp teeth and drooling tongues

but the man learned they gave sloppy kisses

and they rolled around in their underwear

and chased sticks

and licked rocks

the corporation got angry because it could only react

not wonder like the man

so they finally sent a lady dressed in ivy

with poison in her thoughts

and she sat next to the man and licked his tongue

and asked him what it meant

and he penetrated her thoughts before she sank him

back into sensation and feeling

and he realized what it meant and felt afraid

because a week was a long time to feel lost

a week was a long time to think and get wet

a week was a day for more work and more money

so he returned to work two weeks’ early

and he got back into it

and more people died but the numbers aren’t in yet

he’s mindlessly tapping but the numbers aren’t in yet
they may still be trapped in tomorrow’s returns

A love letter.

Dear M,

I write this letter out of love. If I saw someone I loved struggling with something, failing to understand their surroundings, trying to get out at every turn, I’d reach a hand out to help without a second thought. But sometimes, because it’s you suffering, I hesitate. I justify the struggle as something deserved for what you’ve done, or I place the blame on you for something that only happened to you.

But now I’m realizing that’s not fair to you. You deserve everything you dream of getting. You should have happiness, you should have opportunities, and you should find work that teaches you and fulfills your zeal to move forward and help others. I’m trying not to be hard on you because you are going through more than you want to admit. You need way more help than you want to admit, and you are afraid to stare your pain in the face and confront it. I recognize that quality as human in everyone else, and now I see it in you. And that’s okay.

You feel as if there is a lot missing in your life. Go find what it is. Seek and ye shall find; ask and ye shall receive. Simple principles are hard to master, but once you’ve got it, you keep it with you for life. We make a good team because we understand each other. Even if we don’t want to understand each other at that particular moment, you and I are a good team. That’s why I love you and I’m talking to you like this.

You’re always preoccupied with figuring out ways to share your talents without coming off flashy or self-important. You know theoretically about making mistakes to learn something new… yet you always beat yourself up the second you trip. You feel as though your instincts – even though they are right 99% of the time – take you down the difficult path. But when you reach the path you thought would be easier, you show up to the door of opportunities with more bruises on your expectations than you wanted. You go through so many processes and changes and hide away as much as possible. You think the wheels that spin in your head in all directions can be seen, and you feel transparent and naked and scared.

Well, I still love you, and I’m writing you to let you know that you’re normal. You are your own normal. Accept your default, please, or no one else will. Look at the conflicts you’ve encountered in your life, and you’ll find that you’ve given in to some of the most ridiculous demands to change who you are. And what is the result? You’ve only learned that at the slightest pressure, you can transform yourself into a person you don’t recognize or admire. There have been painful moments after fights where you’ve sat crying and shuddering because of all the negative energy you’ve expelled, in response to all the negativity you’ve absorbed. But once your body calms down, and you’re breathing normally again, you feel a serene sense of comfort. You feel calm and you feel vindicated because you didn’t give in. Hold fast to that comfort; you’ll need it to survive.

It’s time to channel the fighting spirit that you’ve been nursing inside of you towards helping others. You’re dabbling now, and that’s great; you’re gently making your way outside of your shell. But you weren’t blessed with all these opportunities to dabble and to creep around. God has given you so many things for so many diverse reasons. You know He’s the reason you have them. It’s time to give back, as is expected of you, and to act like you know you owe a debt to something beyond credit bureaus and loan agencies.

I love you. Get used to it. People will not love you, let alone like you. Get used to it. There is a lot of abuse and pain and madness in the world. Never get used to that. Those controls, those causes, those spirits seeking to hurt people – you work to stop them. I love you because I know you know that this is why you fight. This is why sometimes you try to eat your anger; but sometimes the anger is deserved. Know when to hold it and when to fold it, when to walk and when to run. God will help you decide when; listen.

With the deepest love I can generate I send you this letter. I know you’re reading it and you feel something good, something real, and something new. Embrace it. Embrace yourself.

Love.