My brain is a hypocrite.
The more I try to make sense or peace with thoughts there is a contradiction. Trying to fill the holes in arguments before the first punch of words is thrown.
I don’t want to live with you. I don’t want to live alone.
I want to move. I hate living out of a suitcase.
I want to miss you. It makes it easy to leave because I leave early.
I want to be good in bed. I hate sleeping with new people.
I want to have perfect boobs. I am scared of getting a boob job because you might judge me.
I want to be one of the boys. Girls and I don’t get along as well, they just don’t like me.
I want to write more. I want to be stoned so I can stop being anxious but I can’t write then.
I want to have closer friends. I am scared to open up to new people.
I tell stories of my past lives to people I meet at bars. I think people think I am lying when I am drinking.
I don’t know where home is for me. I like being a nomad.
I envy people who have stuff and collections of weird shit and decorate places they have lived in for years. I hate the commitment of wall paint.
I feel the pangs of adulthood just as strongly as I do the throws of adolescence. I read stories people write about travelling and life changes and think they sound contrived as much as they do inspirational. Like this song, it is just reminiscing about the person she was and what she did.
“We was the bang we never heard before.”
I am convinced I am en route to being the crazy person at the end of the bar with too much hair and stories that are so bizarre they could be believable. With the voice of Rihanna and the lyrics of the Weeknd, this song is hypnotic and claws at the dark parts of your thoughts and suits the crazy lady at the end of the bar.