Showing posts with label jawbreaker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jawbreaker. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Ache




Thinking back on all the mistakes you made in a relationship is a painful experience.  All you want is another chance to undo the petty or  stupid things you did, and for the person who dumped you to say that maybe, at some point, you can give things another try.  It doesn't matter if they really mean it, you just want that possibility to exist somewhere in the universe.  Time passes, and you think back on things.  Maybe you've moved on, maybe you haven't-- either way, it aches.  It will always ache whenever you see that person.

"Lean your head on mine/ Like you used to. / (Used to your lean) / I don't mind if you're faking it."  Fuck I love Jawbreaker.





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Sunday, November 15, 2009

Do you still hate me?



A friend of mine recently told me that one of the most difficult things to accept as a human is the condition of not knowing something. This is especially true in matters of the heart, when the person you love leaves you. The Jawbreaker song "Do You Still Hate Me?" (the first of several Jawbreaker songs that will no doubt appear on this blog) is about that unknowing, that position of speculating what the other person is thinking, whether you will ever even be friends again, hearing through friends what he or she is doing, whether you should try to contact them or leave them alone. It also captures the pain in thinking back on how things were once good, and how the person you long for once loved you:

Been hearing about you.
All about your disapproval.
Still I remember the way I used to move you.
I wrote you a letter.
I heard it just upset you.
Why don't you tell me?
How can I do this better?
Are you out there?
Do you hear me?
Can I call you?
Do you still hate me?
Are we talking?
Are we fighting?
Is it over?
Are we writing?
We're getting older.
But we're acting younger.
We should be smarter.
It seems we're getting dumber.
I have a picture
of you and me in Brooklyn.
On a porch, it was raining.
Hey, I remember that day.
And I miss you