I’m glad that Sufjan Stevens made a song that shows the morbid bitterness that comes with age; a song that says I loved you when I was young, but I was naive. “Now that I’m older, I’m getting colder.” That’s the truth. Someone tell me the truth on my birthday.

Here’s to another day.

This is the first time I’ve realized the severity of the fact that I’m alone. I haven’t had anyone to run to since my mother retired to Mexico and started living on a fixed income in August of 2006. I haven’t looked out at the rest of my life and had the thought, “If I fail, I’m homeless.” Guess what, Nikki B., the rest of your life is right in front of you. What are you going to do about it?

I’ve never taken myself out from under the shadow of “the man.” The sun has always been too scary. If it’s rays scorch and burn me, at least I would have seen natural light—for once, at last. I’m so pale, so fragile, so scared. The rest of your life starts in approximately 7 days, Nikki B. What are you going to do about it?

As the salty tears stream down my face, I take comfort in the fact that the rest of my life started over 27 years ago. This is the first time I’ve had the guts to do with it exactly what I want. This is my time. The rest of my life is right in front of me. This is what I’m going to do about it!

Goapele – “Closer”

Then a day later, I happened upon this one.

Could I fall any deeper in love? Yes…

]]> http://blog.seattleshowgal.com/guilty-secret/feed/ 0 http://blog.seattleshowgal.com/the-arcade-fire-haiti/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-arcade-fire-haiti http://blog.seattleshowgal.com/the-arcade-fire-haiti/#comments Thu, 03 Dec 2009 23:59:05 +0000 Nikki http://blog.seattleshowgal.com/?p=206 This song made me cry. The song is about war, but there is so much happiness in this song. I thought it was fitting because in third world countries, the people who have nothing rarely complain–they go through life with a smile on their faces.

Haïti, mon pays,
wounded mother I’ll never see.
Ma famille set me free.
Throw my ashes into the sea.

Mes cousins jamais nés
hantent les nuits de Duvalier.
Rien n’arrete nos esprits.
Guns can’t kill what soldiers can’t see.

In the forest we lie hiding,
unmarked graves where flowers grow.
Hear the soldiers angry yelling,
in the river we will go.

Tous les morts-nés forment une armée,
soon we will reclaim the earth.
All the tears and all the bodies
bring about our second birth.

Haïti, never free,
n’aie pas peur de sonner l’alarme.
Tes enfants sont partis,
In those days their blood was still warm