junk drawer #1
unfinished lyrics and pieces I've written (there will inevitably be more parts to this)
I’m knee-deep into a midterm season right now in grad school, so I don’t have an actual piece or anything to share this week. so, I thought I could just share some lyrics and blurbs (definitely mostly lyrics) that I’ve abandoned, or just haven’t finished/done anything with yet, from over the past couple years.
I’m thinking maybe I’ll do this whenever life gets to be too much; when I can’t write a complete, longer piece. I have way too many songs and pieces that have been started, never finished, and forgotten about.
hopefully, this stands as a reminder to be kinder to yourself—in all regards, of course, but here, specifically, in the sense that there is no moral obligation to complete every piece we start. sometimes, just allowing the ideas to leave your mind and getting them into the form of words on a page is enough. and you can come back to them later; maybe in a week, or two years, but either way, at least you wrote something.
january 13, 2022
wanted to tell you, but i never got around to it
wanted to yell at you for outgrowing me
i always thought that seeing you again would be cathartic
but i’m stuck wishing i never met you at that party
have you always been this nonchalantly negligent?
you can’t say you love someone without the sentiment
when you do that, you lose all the meaning behind it
it turns to dismal, empty words
they become desolate
i want to forgive you, and i’m trying to
but when i see your face, i feel resentment
i can’t forgive someone who isn’t sorry
i can’t make you mourn what never lived for you
february 6, 2022
i hate not knowing what i’m feeling
all i know is that i’m feeling a lot of it
one day, the uncertainty will kill me
but for now, you make me smile more than i’d admit
sometimes i want to be the love of your life
sometimes i just want to talk
sometimes i imagine you in front of me
i want you to see my name on your phone
and die a little bit inside every time
because you know that i’m repeating the things you say in my head
they’re the last thing on my mind before i go to bed
and i’m a sucker for a slow burn, but i’d hate to be another cliche
i don’t know if i want us to be more yet, or if i want us to stay this way
march 17, 2022
I’m greedy for this contact, want to be filled up with it, but at the same time it’s embarrassing—how obsessive I feel. It’s too much; I’m too much. I can’t tell you.
It’s a crush because it’s not real. Not yet, not maybe ever. I’d be content to spend forever in this liminal, cresting place, the interval before we know each other. But then you throw a wrench in my plans. You say to me, I like you.
Already I could imagine myself disappearing; I could imagine myself changing, rearranging my life to make room for you. But I couldn’t imagine you seeing me for me, the way I felt I’d accidentally glimpsed you.
– excerpts from “Crush”, from the essay collection, Pop Song, by Larissa Pham
I recently talked with a friend about this part, because I was genuinely shocked at how verbatim these portions felt to my own thought process, in regard to “crushing” and developing feelings for someone new. I made him read the entire essay, and because I feel we are similar in a lot of ways, I was expecting him to just excitedly agree and freak out with me—but to my surprise, he told me:
“It’s so sad that we have to feel this much.”
Out loud, I said: “Yeah, I guess it is pretty sad. Having so much to feel and nowhere to put it.”
But I wanted to express to him how it's also such a beautiful thing to me. How overcome with emotion we get, the spilling over with emotion type of feeling we all experience at least once in our lives. I saw this tweet once that read:
Yearning sounds way too delicate. Whatever I go through is way more disgusting.
And in my experience, this is true. When I begin developing feelings for someone, it’s anything but delicate. It becomes my motivation to do well, look good, be better. I feel the need to capture their attention and go to embarrassing lengths to retrieve it. There’s probably some primal explanation to this; something so inherently and beautifully human about it, because of the notion that no other species experiences attraction in such a way. They experience sexual attraction, being drawn to one another out of a purely lustful place, but humans are the only species created to feel—and capable of feeling—an overwhelming, all-encompassing "crush".
But I don’t know what to do with the attention once it is given to me. Not that I don’t feel accomplished once I’ve managed to receive it, but it’s just not exciting anymore. The person doesn’t usually live up to the version I imagined them to be in my head once we start talking. And when they do, or end up being better than that, it scares me to move forward. I guess the thrill of the chase is my driving force, more than anything. The unknown is sometimes what I crave. The mystery of it all; not knowing if he said that because he likes me or if he's just being nice. Sometimes I wish I never found out just so we could have spent a little more time in the sweet spot of blissful naivety.
Isn't it funny how we so easily mistake being in love with moments for being in love with the person they're spent with?
april 18, 2022
for some reason, we’re taking three steps back
and for no reason, i feel the urge to attack
for some reason you’re easy to distract, and i don’t know if i like that
i don’t think i’ll love the same, since there’s nobody to blame
i don’t like the way i sometimes feel like dying
talking for hours, we’re quite the performers
and then it’s my turn to put you on the back burner
watch as my demeanor gradually gets warmer
for some reason i think i love you more
for no reason i think you're getting bored
for some reason i know we’re done for, but i refuse to believe it
i don’t think i write the same as i did four months ago
i don’t like the crushing weight of emotional vertigo
we put down our cards, lay them out on the table
and accept we’re too far, there’s no way we’d be stable
and we watch as the match burns out, feeling fatal
july 24, 2022
find myself saying your name in passing conversations
i’m going out of my way to make sure it gets mentioned
august 8, 2022
this could be love
i could be wrong
it could be humiliating
he could be stringing me along
it could be a joke
i could be the punchline
but he feels an awful lot like the real thing this time
august 13, 2022
couple more inches above the ground
i’m a lot taller than you now
and i know that information is not profound
but it says a little something about me
i don’t know if you like me very much
‘cause these days you chew me out and call it love
and i know it’s not the way i was brought up
but i’m not as tough as you’d like me to be
december 10, 2022
our clocks are looking similar now
let me know when you reach the ground
what do you see when you look around
tell me everything
i always feel the need to fill the empty spaces with words and other things
but lately, i don’t feel like doing that with you
april 1, 2023
when the fire’s out, will you still stick around?
will your love run dry?
could you still be found?
standing in the rain, just like yesterday
will you still?
tell me you will
just call me whenever you can
i’ll be waiting on the other end
i’ll ask about what you did, even though i already know
i just wanna hear it again
isn’t it nice to feel wanted?
i could listen to you through the night
anything to not say goodbye
june 17, 2023
i promised her that i would get better
it’s not getting easier with this weather
but i guess i have to try anyway
i don’t want to be labeled her liability
the thorn in my mother’s side
but what if this time she’s right
september 14, 2023
she always said don’t leave it up to the judges
and she said she can’t let go of grudges
i took your contact off of speed dial for the first time in my life
now i always hear mistakes in our favorite songs
for some reason i can’t get myself to turn it off
was it methodical?
i overthought it all
i guess it was illogical, that i almost ran away last night
tell my mother i am sorry
tell her i tried, and i can’t do anything more
i wanna call you, say i’m sorry
tell you i did the best i could
and even now i wish that i could do some more
and how i wish that you had done that too before
i don’t know what i would do if you showed up
my friends would hate the way i just gave up
i need to grow a stronger backbone, if i want to prove my worth
but what i’m not worth very much
september 19, 2023
i am wretched with delusion
i am dumb and i’m deranged
and the source of my confusion is the way you say my name
like it’s a secret only we know, that you are whispering to me
like it’s a magic incantation, like i’m the thing that sets you free
i accept the past, and i’ll accept the fact
that you’re not coming over, you’re not coming back
it all just feels too easy; for you to have me, then to lose me
you were always good at dreaming
not so much at the proceeding
beneath the surface something scared you: what i was willing to and gave you
the way i trusted you like family, the way you know i made you happy
thought i was done with learning lessons, finished hitting dead ends
thought it was my turn for the real thing
i thought that you could be the real thing
january 5, 2024
i can’t remember the good
because you’ve stained it with all the things you said to me
and when i know that you should
apologize and take accountability
i think about how you stood at the top of the stairs
and i told you to leave
it’s hard to think of the good
when the bad is always standing right in front of me
when you’re standing right in front of me
january 29, 2024
When you’re in the eye of the hurricane, you don’t immediately feel the chaos and absolute disorder that’s occurring just outside of it. Similarly, while I was in the relationship, especially at the height of it, I didn’t see much wrong with it at the time. In retrospect, I genuinely did not realize just how much effort I was putting in, and how uneven the balance was, and always had been. I suppose I also thought the dynamic just made sense: a confrontational, headstrong girl who doesn’t like being told what to do meets an indecisive, unassertive boy who lacks a sense of direction. I had an innate need to be in control, while he preferred to lay back and let me take the wheel.
To the untrained eye (i.e., mine at the time), it seems as though the stars have aligned in order for these two people to even find each other, much less fall in love. What are the chances? At the time, it sure felt that way: it felt obvious that we were meant to be together; that the reason we were in each other’s lives was one of a romantic nature. In my deranged mind, it was the only plausible explanation. And I had always been aware of the fact that love never came about without its challenges: no love story worth reading about ever happened without some sort of conflict. Two people in love from opposing kingdoms; from vastly different cultures or upbringings. Friends who were hesitant to move forward, out of fear of losing the other if it didn’t work out. Two people in love who weren’t supposed to be, because they were supposed to despise each other for some reason. Two people hindered by the hurdle of distance. There are countless other tropes and conflicts worth listing, but I always knew that every great romance had to loosely fit at least one category.
Because of this, I never once expected it to come easily. In fact, I predicted the more obvious problems from the beginning, like distance, and knew it was going to be a long ride if we chose to get on board. That’s the thing: I’m not afraid of challenges; in fact, I’m used to experiencing and at least trying to solve them. He, on the other hand, was so non-confrontational that he lived his life in a constant fear of challenges—so much that when they arose, he avoided them almost completely, unless it was brought up by someone else. The difference between us I guess, was that I was willing to power through. He surrendered at the very first opportunity to do so.
february 9, 2024
Your right arm is looped around my left, so that the arm your dominant hand belongs to is free. The free arm extends into a ruddy palm, which repeatedly opens and closes itself into a fist, at a seemingly rhythmic pace. You’re nervous.
A couple weeks ago, I read something online about The Sidewalk Rule: an unspoken, chivalric rule of thumb that dates back to the Middle Ages, when roads were constructed among the presence of open trenches, and waste, water, and who-knows-what-else flowed freely in an unsafe manner. The rule was if a man and a woman were walking together, he was deemed a gentleman by the lady if he walked on the side of the road which was in nearest proximity to the trenches, avoiding any endangerment toward her, and any damage to her dress. (This was also an era in which long, beautiful gowns were considered casual wear—a fad that couldn’t hurt to bring back to the modern age.) The Sidewalk Rule is a test that women have been using for centuries, to conclude whether or not a man is a gentleman, and as a result, a proper suitor.
Did you know that when we left the apartment, I purposely stayed on the inside of the sidewalk so that you would be forced to take the side with the cars? This is not the first time I have done this. That night in the rain before dinner; the walk from the train to the museum; the day we went to the arboretum. You feel strong, but you are not protecting me. I’m making you feel like you are.
february 15, 2024
tell me what you’re looking for, i’ll help you find it
i hope it sounds like me
will it be me?
i think i’m ready for you to like me
is it you?
will you erase him from me?
could it be you?
to make me forget what he did to me
could you?