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2020-03-12 22:07:31 (UTC)


"Maria's Little Elbows" by Sparklehorse

Well I'll bet my Maria's got an elbow full of lonely
Now here's a little prayer so that she might get some sleep
Don't let her face get skinned by the sun today
Don't let it in when it comes knocking at your door

Sometimes you feel you've got the emptiest arms in the whole world
Try to make sense but it always comes out absurd
Sleeping horses keep eating up your flowers
Don't let it in when it comes kicking at your door

She said I've really come to hate my body
And all the things that it requires in this world
I bet you're out there getting drunk with all your friends
And it'll get you in the bathroom of a Texaco

Came kicking at my door

March 12, 2020 Thursday 10:11 PM

This is a good song, this is the saddest song in the world, I'll tell you why: burning in my stomach, restlessness, you know that thing when you look at everything but you don't see it and all that. I'm trying to find that moment from before, where I wanted so badly to live, and I wonder if I'm making it harder for myself—like, maybe a person isn't supposed to feel ecstatic sobbing relief at being alive, maybe they should just, you know.. be alive. Well, yeah, obviously. Still...

Someone in a Youtube comment said an "elbow full of loneliness" refers to a goodbye wave. And I like that image, of your hand waving goodbye, and jostling all the little grains of feeling, the ones encrusted on the insides of your fingers, and they fall and settle into your elbow, until you drop your hand and there they go running again to the tips of your fingers.

And maybe when he writes "emptiest arms" it isn't a pretty turn of phrase, but a literal: a hollow little arm, around which knock and slosh the grains of sand, feels all the more unstable, fragile, the less there is to hold you down, you know?

I am the flimsiest; there was a period of time in which I was great, and then good.... and then nothing, for a bit (last week or two).... and now I have the thought, suddenly, that I can't wait anymore and it's not enough and nothing is enough or it is too much and I want to go away. And it can't be tomorrow, it can't be in an hour, it has to be *now,* I have to go now.

Of course, I cannot go! I am good. There is nowhere I need to go. I just need to breathe a little. I just need to.

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