Honey, help me out of this mess, I’m a stranger to myself but don’t reach for me, I’m too far away. I don’t want to talk ‘cause there’s nothing left to say.
It pisses me off to think that we’re conditioned to push away bad feelings and to think that anything that’s uncomfortable is something to be avoided. When things are really bad nowadays, I recognize the value in it because it’s me filling my quota— it’s going to make my joy more intense later.
Let’s pretend we’re eight years old playin’ hooky. I draw on the wall, and you can play UFC rookie.
Fiona Apple, Anything We Want