baby we'll be fine
all we gotta do is be brave and be kind
so i’m finding myself uncomfortably relating to a song by the national and as with all the horrid thoughts i have i wanted to write it down.
i keep saying horrid today and i don’t know why.
anyway, the song is baby we’ll be fine and as far as i can tell it’s about being autistic and having anxiety.
it’s about knowing exactly how to do everything you need to fit in and look like a real person but knowing that you aren’t and knowing that you know neither how to go on pretending nor how to stop.
it’s about trying to tell yourself it will be fine and being told that it will be fine and trying to remember that you’ve been told that it will be fine because if someone else said it it must be true and never once believing that it will be fine.
it’s about desperately wanting to be loved and told that you’re valid and good and real and not ever being able to get what you need because what you need, really, is to not have to live in a world where you have to exist and be perceived and find yourself wanting in the eyes of others.
it’s about that desperate yearning for any kind of intimacy but feeling like you can’t ever really be present and knowing that all of that intimacy is necessarily and painfully filtered by capitalism and disconnection and hurt so you find yourself praying that your boss will lay your head on his shoulder and tell you that you’re good and have value even though you know how meaningless and impossible that would be.
it’s about being on the verge of falling apart and hoping against hope that maybe being with someone else or having sex or having a wank or having a shower for 45 minutes will at least distract you from the void which prevents you from being a real person and then something goes wrong and it doesn’t really even matter at all but it’s the thousandth thing which doesn’t really even matter at all to go wrong and suddenly everything breaks and you’re so fucking sorry for everything, you can’t stop apologising, you can’t stop begging for your existence to be excused, even though neither you nor anyone knows what you’re sorry for but god, god, you know that that apology is both the essence of your being and the only thing which can fill the void which prevents your being from having an essence and you keep apologising and the void never shrinks.
also, the rhythm’s cool, and the dessners are doing that neat interlinking guitars thing they do, and this live performance is good, and it’s the only song i’ve ever heard which really gets what it’s like to feel like this and sometimes you really do just have stilted, pretending days.
sorry that this is so chaotic; normal programming will resume in the next couple days. thanks to suzie and alice for reading this and giving their thoughts