Ben Howard, Gracious
the trouble with this
is that it’s too much of a risk
to create beauty out of hell
when at any moment
you could destroy yourself
this is why i never turn up
on this side of town.
i have not found out what the fuss is about,
but i have heard stories,
and stories are enough.
it was just a split-second spike in the meter
but it was a split-second.
i was just a split-second spike in the meter,
and only ever so.
what i’m actually afraid of is the chance that 1989 will be too bubblegum pop that it won’t have the emotional pull of the first four albums
Sometimes it is 9 am,
and they will stare at you as you pass.
Sometimes they are on motorcycles, and they will offer you a ride.
Sometimes they will say, “Good morning, miss.”
Sometimes they do this one after the other, until you are walking faster, with your face set forward, determined to get away from them.
Sometimes that is all it takes to ruin your day.
Sometimes it is 5 pm,
and your friend is telling you how
a girl from her province was raped, then murdered.
Sometimes your friend says some of it was the dead girl’s fault,
because she was out in the streets in the wee hours of the morning.
Sometimes you want to scream at your friend because how else will anyone ever understand that the dead girl had every right to be out in the streets at any time she wanted?
Sometimes it is 7 pm,
and you’re clutching a foldable umbrella like a weapon.
On other days you hold your pen like this. Like a knife.
Sometimes getting out of your street is more frightening than the monster inside your closet.
Sometimes the monsters are in the streets.
Sometimes they are real.
Sometimes your defenses make you feel braver.
Sometimes you can see the jeepney driver staring at the rearview mirror, getting a look up your skirt.
Sometimes it’s a traffic enforcer you catch doing this.
Sometimes you think girls like you are supposed to fold into themselves every time they leave their house.
Sometimes you ask why.
Sometimes it’s midnight,
and you are in bed,
and you are wondering what on earth freedom means.
Sometimes you ask, “Am I certain that I am my own woman, that I am unafraid?”
Sometimes you think, yes, sure.
Sometimes you doubt it.
Sometimes you don’t believe it at all.
Everything is Ben Howard and everything hurts.
randomly shouting ‘i forget where we were’ in the house like nobody’s business
Nicole, 17, Philippines
I am studying Journalism at the University of the Philippines-Diliman. My heart belongs to the works of author Neil Gaiman and singer-songwriter Ben Howard, and to the endlessly absorbing struggles of living. I've never been to a concert in my life. I can't swim, but I am in love with the ocean."Comfort came against my will; every story must grow old" is the inspiration behind my blog title. It's a line from Ben Howard's song called 'Black Flies.'
Talk to me, will ya?