I just had a funny little moment. I might spend the next few days scribbling crazy away trying to capture exactly what that was, what it felt like. All I can say is I’m alone and listening to “Being Cool” by Kimya Dawson and I felt the biggest suckerpunch of empathy for others, way moreso than the usual–this wasn’t usual. To be honest I think it’s one of those side effects to growing up. I guess it just hit me that we’re all really trying, and with so many different efforts smashing against one another in this world, it’s no wonder there are stems of aggravation, stumps of ego, petals of decision seizures. No wonder we are so hopeful about dust and so dismissive of lungs, and so heavy on the make up and so reliant on a couple stupid sentences.

I’m gonna go ahead and site the Kimya Dawson song on this one. Here is the song “Being Cool”

Here are the lyrics:

is new york city really like a graveyard they all ask me
and i say well it was last week but man that was in the past
see i stopped going to the places where the people act so nasty
and pretentious ’cause i’m happy sitting with my friends in sidewalk singing songs

and some people are still standing in the way of where i’m going
so i say please excuse me, step aside, or keep on moving
and i guess they sensed that my momentum meant that i was winning
but i’m only just beginning and i’d rather go with friends than go alone

and some people grab my hands and some people grab my shirt
some people race ahead to see if they can get there first
some people stay behind ’cause they’ve got something else in mind
whatever you decide if you are true to you you’re gonna be alright

like akida he’s a father now he is in love with amber
their baby’s name is skyler he’s a baby of the summer
i wonder as i wander if i’ll ever settle down
or if every day i’ll take my roots uprooted en route to another town

i was sitting on a couch somewhere watching vh-1
when i found out that bruce springsteen is his mother’s only son
i’m my mother’s only daughter and we were both born to run
even he says it’s amazing raising babies in the place where you come from

but i am a rock tumbler i’ve got rocks inside my head
and just because they come out shining doesn’t mean that they are diamonds
and i guess that my worst nightmare is your very favorite bar
when i’m worth my weight in shale and slate i’ll know that i’m a super duper star

i’ll be a great big ball of burning gas and i’ll be sitting on my big fat ass
sipping cristal light beside a plastic wading pool
and the next day i’ll be somewhere else part of me will hate myself
part of me will know deep down that i am pretty cool
the part of me that knows i never cared for being cool
the part of me that knows i never cared for being cool
the part of me that knows i never cared for being cool