this is happy...about two weeks ago, i posted the lyrics to "control" by threequartersmile...it's so cool, one of the guys in the band (Ben) emailed me, and there's actually a link to my blog on their website, to my post of the lyrics. :)
it's a great song...although it's interesting, with the meaning of the lyrics. on the link to it on radio wazee, the streaming audio section, it says that it's "a song about a battered housewife". that makes perfect sense, but that's not the image that came to my mind when i listened to it. it's funny, i guess song interpretations so often become functions of what's going through the listener's mind at the time they hear it, or what's going on in the listener's life when they hear the song for the first time.
"something evil comes your way...it loves you more than words can say"
what that made me think of, more than anything, was my family...and really, that's what the entire song makes me think about, the relationship between me and my relatives. because, sure, they love me, as they're supposed to love their daughter/niece/whatever. but, the bounds of how they express their love really do more to tie me down then to make me feel close to them. the desire, the expectation, for constant contact...their impression that i should still be willing and able to tell them about absolutely everything about my life, when i see no real need to...the fact that they get insulted when i try to tell them that's not the way it is, that i need to exist in my sphere a lot further away from them than they want me. it's evil that they berate me for this, although it's just their conception of how they think familial love should function.
"she thinks it's over...he thinks it's time to pay..."
it's been a huge problem, more and more since four years ago when i moved out to college, struck out on my own. here i am, i'm supposed to be living my own life, on my own terms, without people breathing down my neck with every step i take...and i only feel more smothered by any contact whatsoever from them.
"she's reaching for an open door...she's had enough...she can't take it anymore"
over the last year, and over the summer, i've had little bouts of strength to come clean with them, to tell them that i can't meet their demands for constant contact, that i'm not ten anymore, and that it's never again going to be the way they swear it was when i was younger. every time i win one of those small victories, i swear it's going to be better, but it never is...i tell one of them that she needs to back off, and she tells me that she will back off as long as we remain in constant contact by phone and e-mail. i tell the truth in bits and pieces, but can never bear to reveal the whole of my feelings, since they're insulted enough by the parts. i stew in it, i get stressed out by it, and my friends have to pick up the pieces.
"she runs back to that home sweet prison"
maybe this will end one day. maybe it will get better. maybe they'll realise how i work. but then again, maybe not. i'm doing what i can. they're not reasonable. i keep thinking i am, i want to believe i am, i want to believe that i'm doing what i can to preserve my feelings, preserve their feelings, deal with it all the best i can.
"she swears that she's in control"