The Nature of My Own Posts, and Then Some Songs

I haven't felt at all proud of most of my post-college-entrance blogging. This is partly, I think, because I wrote many of my posts with a tone of 'this is not normal, no one else will understand this.' I know that's not true, but I convinced myself it was, and I find that tone so annoying because... I know the idea behind it's not true.

Furthermore, I think I was partly ashamed of these latest posts because I wrote some of them on relatively temporary emotions, and I prefer to write about more profound, lasting things. Otherwise, when I'm done and over it, I realize I was just writing about a phase, and I don't like going through phases in the first place. Phases are deceptive. They make you think what you're feeling is going to last forever, and then they end. Just like that. I don't like even privately recalling a phase I went through, let alone knowing everyone else will be able to recall it too. For instance, last year, I wrote about some very bizarre almost-crush I had on a guy, and it's ridiculous that I felt like that at all. I want to forget that happened in real life, but good golly, I wrote about it on the internet!

No one who reads this blog even knows my real name, and I'm still worried about them knowing about my phases.

I want to delete that post, along with a few others, but I don't, because I feel like that wouldn't be honest. I need a place to be honest, and that place has been my blog for the last couple of years. They may have been phases, but when I was experiencing those emotions, I truly was experiencing those emotions. And if I keep secret any honest experience, even just honest phases, how can I say I'm being my complete self on my blog? If I let myself feel shame over any true part of me, how can I say I'm not ashamed of myself as a whole?

Then again, maybe those phases are small enough portions of life to be left unmentioned. Maybe, I don't have to put myself through further shame by posting about them. At least, not until I understand them well enough to post intelligent thoughts on them. I may still take them down.

I feel differently about some of my posts, like the ones I wrote when I was sick. I still don't like them, because of the tone I wrote them in, but they were written on lasting emotions. "2:40 AM and All is Not Well" was about me feeling lonely. Specifically, it was about me feeling lonely after a whole semester of feeling mostly UNlonely. But the loneliness was not a temporary phase. It was an old enemy. I needed last semester. I transitioned easily from lonely to connected then fell back hard to lonely, and I recognized loneliness so fully that I actually had a mini-revelation that I'd felt like that for a very long time. I just didn't recognize it completely before. That's what I think "2:40 AM" shows, sort of, and I'll almost certainly not delete that post, even though I was temporarily worse that night than I am most nights.

Anyway, one way or another, I don't want to keep writing posts I later have to wonder about deleting. I might take a break from blogging about my life for a while, unless I really need to let it out, like I did on the night of "2:40 AM."

Here, I really want to post about some songs I've been listening to lately instead.

Wasted - By Cartel

"We all feel alone every single day." Which proves that other people feel as lonely as I do. Even last semester, I had lonely moments, maybe not EVERY day, but often enough. I'd describe this song as melodic and sad, and not completely but at least half true. It does seem most people's lives are wasted, but I think every person was put here for a reason and we all have the choice to fulfill our purposes. We don't HAVE to be wasted.




Is Anybody Out There - By K'NAAN featuring Nelly Furtado

"Is anybody out there?" A plaintive and relatable cry. I'm not saying that other people don't matter, but when you're hurting -- when no one is helping you -- in a way, other people don't exist. They don't exist in relationship to your healing. Is there anybody who exists in relationship to your healing? Is there anybody who can hear you? Is there, for all intents and purposes, anybody out there?

Also, the video reminds me how horrible I am. These days, I shy away from broken-seeming weirdos in the world. I scare myself into thinking they just might be serial killers, and I keep to myself out of fear. I didn't used to. I used to think that the broken weirdos were always good guys, and while that might not be true either, at least I was willing to be kind to them. I want to be that way again, but I'm still scared and I still feel like there's nothing I can do.

Still further, this video and this song remind me that it's okay to hurt, even with all material possessions in my care. I'm not freezing, starving, or living in a mud hut, but the pain I feel is ligitimate pain nonetheless.




You - By The Pretty Reckless

I've never had a boyfriend, but somehow I can relate to this song. I can relate because of friends and crushes I've had, and just through my imagination. I've been crying over stories of unrequited love since I was twelve. The Little Mermaid. The Phantom of the Opera. Even Lemony Snicket. For some reason, they strike a chord deep, deep in my heart. It's hard for me to imagine anything more painful than unrequited love.

In the video, she's obviously watching a sex tape, and I'd usually find something like that inappropriate to spread around, but I couldn't bear to just post a lyric video. Taylor Momsen's expressions are so evocative. You hear her and know how she's feeling, but you LOOK at her and you FEEL how she's feeling. It's really amazing.

As a plus, it's very refreshing to hear a girl sing about tragedy in love without sounding 100% whiny like Taylor Swift sounds. Just saying.





That's it for now. I'm on Spring Break, so I may post more, but I wouldn't count on it. =) Happy Upcoming St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

Ashley Tisdale

I'm sorry I haven't posted in two whole weeks. Blog ideas kept popping up, and I couldn't pick one. Then there was Thanksgiving. I can't comprehend how time zipped from Halloween to Thanksgiving without being seen. Time is an expert in covert operations.

Finally, out of all the emotions I've had and the happenings in my life and the perverted US government meddling in the airports, I've chosen a simple topic.

Ashley Tisdale is an actress-singer most famous for her role as Sharpay in High School Musical. I know people who hate her because she got her start in Disney. I, being perfect, don't judge people in such a fashion. I judge their work by their work. I thought she was an adequate comedic actress in The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, even though the show was terrible. (And I watched it anyway! Just like all the other Disney shows, just because I was bored. I was such an unindustrious child. But that's another post.) I also thought she was an adequate singer, albeit annoyingly high-pitched, in HSM, even though the movie was no better than any other Disney Channel movie. (I thought the HSM choreography and songs were delightful, though. I love musicals. Love people breaking into song and dance. Wouldn't it be fun if people could do that in real life?) However, I didn't really like Ashley until her first album came out. After that, I appreciated other aspects of her personality. She's not pretty. Well, she is for a normal person but not for an actress. Nevertheless, she seems perfectly confident. She DOESN'T seem arrogant. In all her interviews, she seems friendly and sweet.

Concering her music, I loved her first album, Headstrong, primarily because it was fast, upbeat, and fun. I despise (most) slow pop songs, and when Ashley's album debuted, I had extreme trouble finding anything BUT slow songs. (I still have that problem but not as extremely.) Ashley's album was a sweet, wintery breath of mountain air. I liked the variety of sounds in Headstrong. When I hear of bands "finding their sound," I wonder why they would choose to make themselves boring by using just one sound. Avoiding such a problem, Headstrong had an Arabic pop sound in one song, a -- I dunno what you'd call it -- bongo sound in another, a robot pop sound in another, etc. I also liked that not all the songs were about love and boys. Not Like That, Positivity, Headstrong, and Suddenly were none of them about love. So Much for You is a love song but somehow seems to be about familial love (it's not of course, but I'm strange). The album contains other love/boys songs, some of them mediocre (Goin' Crazy, Don't Touch, We'll be Together), some of them dance-worthy but annoying lyric-wise (He Said She Said), and some of them quite acceptable. Unlove You pandered to me, despite being a slow balad, because I can't bear to think that true love could disappear. Over It didn't impress me music-wise, but I liked it because it was -- to quote a headline I can't really remember -- an empowering breakup song, unlike the majority of weepy breakup songs. And THAT is part of why I liked Ashley's next album, Guilty Pleasure.

Guilty Pleasure disappointed me with its music because it seemed Ashley had "found her sound" and saturated the album with rock guitars that all sounded the same. I grew to love it, though, and learned to pick out the songs' differences. The album also disappointed me with the content of its songs because it was vastly about love and boys. I found, however, that for such songs, they're pretty enjoyable. Ashley seems to react to situations the way I would, and she sings only one song, Tell Me Lies, that really annoys me. I vaguely enjoy songs like What If, I definitely enjoy How Do You Love Someone because of the haunting melody and meaningful lyrics, and I love her non-love song, Acting Out, because of the violins and rebelliousness. As I said before, I was also hooked because she only sings angry breakup songs. Not "Boohoo I Miss You and Want You Back, Pity Me in My Beautiful Pain" breakup songs. I'm not saying I wouldn't be weepy in a breakup, but I'd also be overwhelmingly angry. It seems a lot of artists overlook that anger and make it all about despair. (Or the artists ARE the cheaters, trying to defend their actions, which is just despicable.) Not Ashley. Ashley's songs are righteously furious with appropriate amounts of sadness but not too much meanness.

What follows is her song, Whatcha Waitin' For. I love her attitude of "If a guy cheated on me, I flatout hate him." In her song, she's obviously hurt, but she doesn't wish for the guy back. This is a nice break from those pathetic songs that express love and wishes for cheaters.









I also love her attitude of "If a guy doesn't want me, I don't want him either. In fact, I stopped wanting him FIRST . . . Or I wish." In If My Life Were a Movie, she wishes that SHE had broken up with HIM, that she was more independent, that she hadn't happened to love someone who would leave her, that she was cool, thick-skinned, and not the victim . . . The song explains it best.

As far as I remember, she remains consistent in singing angry breakup songs. None of those pathetic, weepy ones. So I can enjoy her music in furious peace.

I admit she's tried to make her image edgier or something with videos for It's Alright, It's Ok and Crank it Up. And it's only made her look silly, tasteless, and tacky. I like other aspects of her image, though. I like that she isn't dating everyone in Hollywood. According to the wiki page I read weeks ago, she's been involved with, like, two guys since her rise to stardom, and she's still with the second one. That, plus the empowering songs, would seem to indicate that Ashley's mature and independent and doesn't need attention from a million guys. I also admit, however, that I don't know how many songs she actually partook in writing. Not all of them, I know that.

I have been reminded countless times that many singers don't write their songs, and it still hasn't stuck. Every time I hear a song, I assume the singer wrote it, and I'm always shocked to hear they didn't. At the same time, I'm always shocked to hear people specify that a singer writes her own songs. I'm always shocked to hear them make a big deal of it. It should be a given. That it's not annoys me terribly. I feel like I'm crediting the wrong person. It's not fair. I've been tricked, and the writer's been robbed. What, pray tell, is the POINT of being a singer if you're not spreading your own messages in your own words, especially when 99.9% of all singers have no real talent as SINGERS? When all they do is sing, singers are like keyboards. They only transfer someone else's words from one place to another.

Rant aside, I enjoy Ashley's music, and if I can't rightfully credit her for that, then I like the music for the music and Ashley for her humble friendliness.

(One of these days, I wish to pay tribute to the song known as I Will Survive, a single song that rivals all of Ashley's empowering breakup songs put together.)

Comparing and Contrasting Similar Songs, and Showing a Rapunzel Trailer

First off, a brand new trailer for Rapunzel (a.k.a. Tangled)! This makes it look fun in a so-bad-it's-good kinda way (I hope the actual movie isn't that corny), shows off the pretty colors, reveals that Rapunzel also looks like a rubber suit, and gives us so much more to think about, story-wise, than the last trailers. Also, I hate to risk jinxing the production by saying the movie will be good...but here's a fun article that takes the risk for me (and also divulges that the final movie production nixed the corny scene where Flynn gets attacked by Rapunzel's hair - Yay!).

Now, on to the post's main event: comparing similar songs. Contrasting them. Judging them. Deciding which are better. Which will live, which will die. 'Tis a noble endeavor, to be sure. All songs are equal, but some songs are more equal than others. Just kidding. All songs are NOT equal. People are equal. To people. But songs are not equal to songs. Observe.

Paramore's The Only Exception vs. Taylor Swift's Mine.

The songs encompass the same basic concept, but Paramore does it better. Both songs are about - and Swift even said this - Finding the Exception to the fact that most relationships end. I've said before that I don't like Swift's music, but I'm doing this post anyway because it fascinates me how one song can be so alike to another and yet so much deeper.










When I first heard Only Exception, I didn't like it. I wasn't listening to the words, and the music was boring. It played often on the radio, though, and finally, one line caught my ear (I forget which), and I decided to give the song a thorough listen and not be the kind of dork who hates a song without knowing the words. So I listened, and the song struck a nerve. It conveyed how I feel about love. Like Paramore, I think that love doesn't exist. "Love never lasts." But TRUE love WOULD last! It would! So true love doesn't exist. Whatever this temporary feeling people call "love" is, it is not love. Like Paramore, I've felt this way from a young age, from watching my parents, other families, TV, the media, and true crime shows (in which spouses always kill each other). Well, I don't suppose that, as a young child, I specifically thought, "love doesn't exist." However, I never specifically thought "love exists" either, as far as I remember. I didn't have many opinions back then, but I couldn't imagine love, I didn't know what it was, I never saw it, and I didn't care. Now, I'm not talking about the kind of love God has for Creation or parents have for children. I believed in THOSE loves. I didn't believe in romantic love. When I got older, I began developing opinions and really THINKING about things. That's when I decided love doesn't exist. It wasn't that long ago, actually (and I think there was a period in between where I did believe in love). You only hear the stories about broken relationships, and those stories impacted me because I decided early in life that I would learn from other people's mistakes because I hate making my own. Later in life, I realized even the relationships you don't hear about are broken or dying or dead, or at least not crafted by true love. Even if spouses stay together, they rarely love each other.

I stopped believing in the love of friends too. I learned that all friends leave. Even if they're not trying to hurt you, they go off, make new friends, and it's like you didn't exist. That often happened to me when I tried sharing something intimate about myself, some insecurity I was struggling with. That seemed to make them uncomfortable. I think some of them would have helped if they could have, but they couldn't, so they left. I scared off dozens of friends that way. (Which is why the dinner scene from the Only Exception is so brilliant. One guy would sit down with Hayley, immediately get up, and leave. Another guy would take his place and do the same. That, with bizarre accuracy, is how it felt with my "friends." They'd leave. I'd be confused and hurt, but I'd smile and try to be nice to the new ones, hoping that each new friend would be my True Friend. But they all left.) I know, I know, I sound all pathetic and drama queen-ish, but I'm not trying to be all boo-hoo. It's true. No friend sticks around when you're suffering, or even when you're not. At least, I've never found one. From what I can tell, it's the same with romance. Spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, everybody. They leave. Or they feel obligated to stay but don't love you. They don't find you special enough to help you through your suffering and love you forever. Their love for you dies, your love for them dies, and, usually, you part ways. And that's not true love.

I pride myself on being smart, and it seemed the smart conclusion to make was "love doesn't exist." However, my feelings decided this for me as much as my brain. If love doesn't last, if friendship doesn't last, I don't want it at all. I'd rather believe love and friendship don't exist. This makes me a very reserved person. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, another drama moment from Minnie. Give me a break.) I very consciously understood that friendship doesn't exist, but usually, I more subconsciously understood that romantic love doesn't exist, although it was a deep-rooted belief that went way back.

In their song, Paramore so clearly and poignantly conveyed much of what I wrote in the last few paragraphs: "Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts, and we've got to find other ways to make it alone and keep a straight face. And I've always lived like this, keeping it comfortable. Distance. And up until now I'd sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness, because none of it was ever worth the risk." That's a lot of meaning packed into one verse. Multiple insights into Finding the Exception. Then Paramore made the Sad Song uplifting with the mention of "the only exception." The one I wish I could find. The exceptional friend who wouldn't leave, who'd listen, who'd love me forever. I'm not totally convinced such a friend doesn't exist, but I don't think I'll find one. Even if I did, I don't know if I could be a True Friend back. I'm too scared now that I'm convinced everyone leaves.

The song does repeat itself an awful lot, it could be even deeper, and my one major problem with it is this line: "I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up. Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream." That defeats the whole purpose of the song, if the guy is just going to leave. But then maybe he's only going to work and he'll be back afterwards, hmm? Still, it's a fantastic song, a finer work than the following.










I'm sorry, but somehow Taylor takes the same idea as Paramore and makes it shallow. As the greatest factor in this, frivolous phrases make up about 90% of the song. 90% of the song has nothing to do with anything important, the kind of material Paramore gave. 90% of the song is wasted on meaningless how's-the-weather-type observations, like "You were in college, workin' part-time waitin' tables. Left a small-town, never looked back." Who cares? That tells us nothing about your Finding the Exception issue. Taylor continues, "I say can you believe it, as we're lying on the couch? The moment, I can see it. Yes. Yes. I can see it now." None of that tells about Finding the Exception. What does sitting on the couch have to do with ANYTHING? Furthermore, the entire chorus is made up of frivolous statements that have nothing to do with The Exception: "Do you remember we were sittin' there by the water. You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing that's ever been mine." Who CARES if she was sitting by the water or he put his arm around her? The "rebel" line could only vaguely pertain to Finding the Exception. And, ok, he's hers. That also tells us nothing about Finding the Exception, since so many others have been hers and she probably though they were "the best" when they were around. And then there's this line: "Flash foward and we're taking on the world together and there's a drawer of my things at your place." This makes me confused, as I thought Taylor was for abstinence (which is great), and having a drawer at his place implies non-abstinence. This line follows, "You learn my secrets, and you figure out why I'm guarded. You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes." This might actually mean something if she told us WHAT her secrets were or what her parents' mistakes. As it is, it's pretty dull. "But we got bills to pay. We got nothing figured out. When it was hard to take, yes, yes, this is what I though about." Bills tell us nothing about the emotional struggle of Finding the Exception. Emotional struggle is usually worse, and a heck of a lot more meaningful, than bills. Bills happen to everyone. They're boring. Why would you mention them in a love song? "And I remember that fight, two thirty AM, as everything was slipping right out of our hands. I ran out crying and you followed me out into the street. Braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known. You took me by surprise. You said I'll never leave you alone." Okay, so we know that she found the Exception, but the impact of this is diluted by all the meaningless foam in there. Who cares if it was 2:30 AM, and she ran out crying, and there was a street out there? Why does she redundantly write that he took her by surprise when it's obvious he did since she expected him to leave and he stayed?

I count only three times in this entire song that she actually mentions the struggle of Finding the Exception. "Why we bother with love if it never lasts," and "You learn my secrets..." and "Brace myself for the goodbye." I don't know much about writing songs, and it might be really hard, but Paramore's song is proof that you can pack a lot more meaning, and a lot less drivel, into a song than Swift has done here.

Also, the video...Yeeeaahh, not so good. Frankly, it's laughable to see Swift acting out all these situations she's obviously never been through, like being a mom. Really? She still looks like she's sixteen. It's ridiculous to see her playing mom when she looks like that. I'm sorry, but it just is. Same goes for the leading man. He looks way too young to be playing the disgruntled, suit-wearing husband and dad. Like they're playing dress-up in clothes too big.

Marina and the Diamond's I Am not a Robot vs. Miley Cyrus's Robot

Again, we have two songs based on the same concept: the performers are not robots. They're human beings. Yes, they are, and let me say that I know this of Miley, Marina, Taylor, and Paramore. They're human beings, and I respect THEM, even if their work is not so good. But Marina still does a better job of this song.








Marina mentions many traits that seem to put people at a disadvantage. True, some of these traits are unseemly, but they ultimately mean we're human, not robots. I sometimes wish I could do everything perfectly, be efficient and secure, and never get shaken up. But if I could be that way, I'd be a complete robot. Marina says, "You're vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not a robot." And that's true. If you're vulnerable, if you get shaken up, you're human. She continues encouragingly, "You're lovable, so lovable. But you're just troubled." And that's also true. Human beings, when behaving like human beings, are lovable, even when they mess up. They're flesh and blood. They're warm and adorable, like kittens. When they're being human. I wish I could see that in myself when I mess up: how messing up and experiencing emotions makes me lovable. This song points that out, that and so much more.








Miley, on the other, hand dishes out the classic misunderstood-celebrity song. It's not that this song doesn't contain some truth. It's just that it's somewhat shallow and largely cliche. Typical. It's about Disney, or anyone else who tries to create an image for Miley and force her to sustain it, to sell their product. They tell her where to go, what to feel, what to wear, etc., operating her like she's their puppet or robot. Isn't that the classic celebrity dilemma? This song contains no original or unusual truths or imagery, unlike Marina's song, which has many. I admire the vocalizing at the start, but the rest of the music is mediocre. Robot isn't that bad. It just isn't good.