Go back in time

Show more

Do you really wanna go?



Funny, how pop songs get in your head and then won't leave. This song by Nelly Furtado's been with me for weeks. It was the beat at the beginning, and I kept listening to it while driving. When in 'repeat', you end up loving or hating the song. Then I began to notice the lyrics.

It's about you. Wherever you are. Whomever I think you are.

In the day, in the night
Say it right, say it all
You either got it or you don't
You either stand or you fall
When your will is broken
When it slips from your hand
When there's no time for joking
There's a hole in the plan

Because what I'm looking for is not in me, I'm assuming you've got it (or I assumed you had it). That 'thing' I desperately need and cannot get, that whatever it is that I crave. And sometimes I feel I'm broken (like right now, pounding the keyboard, exorcising the demon of want) and I feel no joy, no pleasure. A hole in the plan indeed. I never intended it to be like this. Fuck.

Oh, you don't mean nothing at all to me
No, you don't mean nothing at all to me
But, you got what it takes to set me free
Oh, you could mean everything to me

Would you mean anything if I'd have you? I guess not. Did I mean anything to you when you had me? Nothing at all. But when you want something you cannot get, it's always there, at the tip of your fingers, lingering. Ever so close and so damn far. It happens when you put your happiness, desire, life, raison d'etre on someone else's hands: you can never achieve it because it's theirs. But the promise of it keeps you wanting, because you know that if this one time it works it'll work forever. No?

I can't say that I’m not lost and at fault
I can't say that I don’t love the light and dark
I can't say that I don’t know that I am alive
And all of what I feel I could show you tonight

I never said I had the answers to all those questions. Have some, lack some. And I never said I was innocent or free of guilt. Never promised what I could not give. Never said I did not belong to someone else, never said I was not going to fail. Did I?

From my hands I could give you, something that I made
from my mouth I could sing you another brick that I laid
from my body I can show you a place
god knows
you should know this place is holy, do you really wannna go?

And I could have given you so much. I could have said so much. I could have loved you so much. But I did not because at the end, you were just a figment of my imagination, you existed only here. That's what makes me bitter. That's what makes me mad. I know it's still here in me. Only it's not for him. I know there's the possibility that it may come out. Only it's not explored, it's wasted, languishing in the dark. And I know you really didn't wanna go there. Because just as I do, you keep your body and soul, all and everything, everybody and everyone at arm's length. Because then we can wallow in our misery, feel alive for awhile while the pain subsides and the angst decreases. And then we feel hopeful. The pleasure is always there, in our own hands only waiting to be shared. But does it really mean anything to us?

The give and take is what keeps us alive. The certainty that it never ends, that there's always the possibility of 'him' right around the corner. Because both you and me look for him. In all the wrong places, because deep down we don't want to find him. Because then we'll have to make up our minds. And we don't want to.

Cheers, babyboy.

Comments

Post a Comment

Go ahead, give it to me.

Translate

Followers

Popular Posts

En otra lengua

  • Le falta calle - [image: Gustavo Petro lanza pullas en su discurso de balcón este lunes 1 de mayo] [image: Ministro del gabinete del presidente Petro se atrevió a...
    2 days ago
  • WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS - Ariana Grande me pilló a mi ya un poco... eso, grande (¿risas? ). Seguramente hace unos años se me hubiera hecho el trasero pesi-cola con ella y la notic...
    5 days ago
  • Errores garrafales - *Cuatricromía / Policromía *es, con sobrada diferencia, uno de los álbumes mejor logrados de Fangoria. No hay una sola canción que no se deje escuchar f...
    3 weeks ago
  • Llorad, llorad, valientes. Un texto de Irene Vallejo. - *El duelo hay que edificarlo sin prisa, con ritmos arquitectónicos*. Más y más, mes a mes. No es una enfermedad de la que curarse lo antes posible, sino ...
    4 weeks ago
  • - En los días que se han convertido en años, en tiempo que transcurre y sin entenderme a mi mismo en mis angustias, en mis silencios, en mis ruidos que no c...
    4 years ago

Restricted to Adults

Restricted to Adults
Under 18? Beat it. Now.