If you're so smart, tell me why are you so afraid?
SPOILER ALERT: For those of you looking for a quick pick-me-up at work or who are just looking to read some cheerful nonsense (the sort I usually publish), you might want to skip this post. I am in a terrible mood and I can tell this is just going to be depressing.....
That said....It's been a difficult few months. I don't think I've really been the same since I was mugged; I'm afraid to leave the apartment alone. Plus, my "freelance" employment status is starting to wear on me. It would feel like an exciting adventure (hey, who am I to complain about working at home in pajamas?) if I wasn't so concerned about how poor I am and what the hell I'm supposed to do in three and a half months (not that I'm counting) when my lease is up. I can't continue to stay in New York without a permanent job (mostly because I have to move to a "safer neighborhood" and I can't afford to pay anymore rent unless I get a "real job.") and it breaks my heart to think about leaving this city. When I first moved to New York full-time in 1999, I was the most depressed I'd ever been. I was trying to find a job and find friends and get out of the TERRIBLE Wiliamsburg apartment I lived in....basically I was just trying to get my footing here. I could always look back on that time and laugh because I made it through it. It was like my NYC initiation. I was a better, stronger person for having suffered through those first horrible six months. But I now find myself in a similar predicament and I can't, for the life of me, remember how I pulled myself out of it. Things just seem really hopeless now. When I got off the plane from LA last week, I burst into tears. Not because I was happy to be home (which would be my usual reaction on returning from LALA land) or even because I had such a good time that I didn't want my vacation to be over. No, I cried because I realized that I didn't belong anywhere anymore. I don't belong in LA where I'd be totally starting over--having to make friends and find a job and find my footing. And I don't belong here anymore because I'm too afraid to leave my house and too broke to do much else. I feel like New York and I are breaking up and, truth be told, this is worst breakup I've ever endured--mostly because I've never loved another human being like I've loved this city.
I really realized that I must be super-depressed when I was on a train coming home from Philadelphia this afternoon, trying to enjoy my ipod and I just couldn't. Usually, no matter how sad or worried I am about something, I can enjoy music. Hell, sometimes nothing feels as good to me as a nice "WALLOWING"--you know, playing deliberately sad songs when you feel terrible. It's like pressing on a bruise--weirdly reassuring that you can still feel pain and that you are in control of the intensity of that pain. But now, I can't even wallow. My favorite sad songs hurt my ears like fingernails on a chalkboard. The last time I felt like this was when I first moved to New York (as mentioned above). I couldn't tell you what albums came out in the fall of 1999 because I didn't buy any of them. I vaguely remember my roommates at the time blasting a lot of Blink-182 (like "What's My Age Again?") but even that memory is slightly murky. I mean, I wasn't a Blink 182 fan. It was just background music to my misery and it was weirdly disconnected from me. Now I feel oddly relieved when Kelly Clarkson comes on the radio because it so benign. I've tried bringing out my favorite records but all of them either leave me feeling so numb that I feel sad that I can't feel anything about them or they remind me of other times when I was happier or more settled and that makes me sad too. For instance: Rilo Kiley just sounds like September to me--like the possibility of fall and hot streets giving way to the first cool evenings and the windows of my apartment being open and breezes blowing through the living room and late nights out drinking and forgetting a sweater. The Killers sound like excited nights spent sweating in prom attire at LES clubs and Jen still living here and the anticipation of their album actually getting released and even the dank room at Don Hill's when I was just discovering them two years ago. The Thermals sound like the first days of spring last year and wondering around Williamsburg with Shaya on the first night it was appropriate to wear a skirt without tights and drinking all day at the Siren Festival and waiting for election results in November. Even Hot Hot Heat (whose concert I enjoyed so much last week) sounds like the hottest 4th of July two years ago and melted tar on my flip flops and being excited about spotting Ryan Adams on the street and Jen's potato salad and boys doing coke in an apartment near Union Square and Coney Island where I got hit on the head by soccer ball and got whiplash on the Cyclone.
So I'm reduced to listing to songs that don't mean anything to me: old Elton John (like "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues") or Billy Joel (like "Vienna" and other songs from "The Stranger"--not his more recent stuff, c'mon I still have SOME taste!) or even the recent Modest Mouse singles ("Float On" and "Ocean Breathes Salty," neither of which I love but, compared to their older albums, they are totally benign to me as they are barren of memories or feelings to me) and old Jackson 5 (because "I Want You Back" is such bubblegum fun that you can't help but tap your feet.). I hate not being able to FEEL anything about music and I hate being so pained by music that I love so much. I've got to get things right for myself , if for no other reason, than so I can actually listen to my ipod again without feeling a hole inside my chest. I'll say this though....I have newfound respect for Billy Joel. I've made a lot of fun of him (and in my defense, he's put out a SHITLOAD of terrible music) but "Vienna" is actually a great song. Take away my "rock writer cred" card, if you must, but I stand by that. There are very few songs written about the hurry children are in to grow up and the fear of adolescence and the pressure that people put on themselves to succeed or be somewhere or something they aren't. For those of you that are doubters, think I've lost my mind and any sense of good taste, and only know fucking "Piano Man" -- here are the lyrics. Pretend they weren't written by Billy (tell yourself this is a Bright Eyes song or something if you must) and tell me that this doesn't move you a little bit and you yourself haven't wished for this kind of advice in your life:
Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
You are still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right
You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you
Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Alright....so not the "coolest" sentiment I've ever expressed, but it's true: This is a good song.
That said....It's been a difficult few months. I don't think I've really been the same since I was mugged; I'm afraid to leave the apartment alone. Plus, my "freelance" employment status is starting to wear on me. It would feel like an exciting adventure (hey, who am I to complain about working at home in pajamas?) if I wasn't so concerned about how poor I am and what the hell I'm supposed to do in three and a half months (not that I'm counting) when my lease is up. I can't continue to stay in New York without a permanent job (mostly because I have to move to a "safer neighborhood" and I can't afford to pay anymore rent unless I get a "real job.") and it breaks my heart to think about leaving this city. When I first moved to New York full-time in 1999, I was the most depressed I'd ever been. I was trying to find a job and find friends and get out of the TERRIBLE Wiliamsburg apartment I lived in....basically I was just trying to get my footing here. I could always look back on that time and laugh because I made it through it. It was like my NYC initiation. I was a better, stronger person for having suffered through those first horrible six months. But I now find myself in a similar predicament and I can't, for the life of me, remember how I pulled myself out of it. Things just seem really hopeless now. When I got off the plane from LA last week, I burst into tears. Not because I was happy to be home (which would be my usual reaction on returning from LALA land) or even because I had such a good time that I didn't want my vacation to be over. No, I cried because I realized that I didn't belong anywhere anymore. I don't belong in LA where I'd be totally starting over--having to make friends and find a job and find my footing. And I don't belong here anymore because I'm too afraid to leave my house and too broke to do much else. I feel like New York and I are breaking up and, truth be told, this is worst breakup I've ever endured--mostly because I've never loved another human being like I've loved this city.
I really realized that I must be super-depressed when I was on a train coming home from Philadelphia this afternoon, trying to enjoy my ipod and I just couldn't. Usually, no matter how sad or worried I am about something, I can enjoy music. Hell, sometimes nothing feels as good to me as a nice "WALLOWING"--you know, playing deliberately sad songs when you feel terrible. It's like pressing on a bruise--weirdly reassuring that you can still feel pain and that you are in control of the intensity of that pain. But now, I can't even wallow. My favorite sad songs hurt my ears like fingernails on a chalkboard. The last time I felt like this was when I first moved to New York (as mentioned above). I couldn't tell you what albums came out in the fall of 1999 because I didn't buy any of them. I vaguely remember my roommates at the time blasting a lot of Blink-182 (like "What's My Age Again?") but even that memory is slightly murky. I mean, I wasn't a Blink 182 fan. It was just background music to my misery and it was weirdly disconnected from me. Now I feel oddly relieved when Kelly Clarkson comes on the radio because it so benign. I've tried bringing out my favorite records but all of them either leave me feeling so numb that I feel sad that I can't feel anything about them or they remind me of other times when I was happier or more settled and that makes me sad too. For instance: Rilo Kiley just sounds like September to me--like the possibility of fall and hot streets giving way to the first cool evenings and the windows of my apartment being open and breezes blowing through the living room and late nights out drinking and forgetting a sweater. The Killers sound like excited nights spent sweating in prom attire at LES clubs and Jen still living here and the anticipation of their album actually getting released and even the dank room at Don Hill's when I was just discovering them two years ago. The Thermals sound like the first days of spring last year and wondering around Williamsburg with Shaya on the first night it was appropriate to wear a skirt without tights and drinking all day at the Siren Festival and waiting for election results in November. Even Hot Hot Heat (whose concert I enjoyed so much last week) sounds like the hottest 4th of July two years ago and melted tar on my flip flops and being excited about spotting Ryan Adams on the street and Jen's potato salad and boys doing coke in an apartment near Union Square and Coney Island where I got hit on the head by soccer ball and got whiplash on the Cyclone.
So I'm reduced to listing to songs that don't mean anything to me: old Elton John (like "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues") or Billy Joel (like "Vienna" and other songs from "The Stranger"--not his more recent stuff, c'mon I still have SOME taste!) or even the recent Modest Mouse singles ("Float On" and "Ocean Breathes Salty," neither of which I love but, compared to their older albums, they are totally benign to me as they are barren of memories or feelings to me) and old Jackson 5 (because "I Want You Back" is such bubblegum fun that you can't help but tap your feet.). I hate not being able to FEEL anything about music and I hate being so pained by music that I love so much. I've got to get things right for myself , if for no other reason, than so I can actually listen to my ipod again without feeling a hole inside my chest. I'll say this though....I have newfound respect for Billy Joel. I've made a lot of fun of him (and in my defense, he's put out a SHITLOAD of terrible music) but "Vienna" is actually a great song. Take away my "rock writer cred" card, if you must, but I stand by that. There are very few songs written about the hurry children are in to grow up and the fear of adolescence and the pressure that people put on themselves to succeed or be somewhere or something they aren't. For those of you that are doubters, think I've lost my mind and any sense of good taste, and only know fucking "Piano Man" -- here are the lyrics. Pretend they weren't written by Billy (tell yourself this is a Bright Eyes song or something if you must) and tell me that this doesn't move you a little bit and you yourself haven't wished for this kind of advice in your life:
Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
You are still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right
You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you
Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Alright....so not the "coolest" sentiment I've ever expressed, but it's true: This is a good song.
2 Comments:
ok seriously. i wish i had paid attention to that spoiler alert. damn it. but can we just focus on the happy part of this post....KELLY CLARKSON! see, i knew my dirty little secret mix would do you some good.
xoxo
jen
rere, you needn't be so serious all the time. yes, it sucks not having a "real" job and it sucks that that gang of teenage pukes did what they did, but i think if you actually ask yourself why you are so afarid, you will find it has nothing to do with either of those things. possibly you feel inadequate, unloved, treated unfairly by "the world", and it is NOT because of the freelance job and it is not because of the mugging. it is because you refuse to change the things that make you miserable, namely, your state of mind. easier said than done, but i think you need to take control of things that you can and let the things you can't go...shake things up. make a move. know that you are brilliant and good and you WILL make it out of the gloom. be patient with yourself and others, but don't wait for things or people to make you happy. tell yourself that things could be much worse, because they could. tell yourself on a regular basis that the only things that really matter are things that you already have an abundance of: family and friends that love you and would cut their nuts off for you, and wicked talent and goodness. i love you re and i just fucking wish you loved yourself as much as everyone else does. remember what the wizard of oz said, and i am paraphrasing, "your character is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others."
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