There it is again
That funny feeling
The whole world at your fingertips, the ocean at your door
Twenty-thousand years of this; seven more to go
A gift shop at the gun range, a mass shooting at the mall
Full agoraphobic, losing focus, cover blown
A book on getting better hand-delivered by a drone
Total disassociation, fully out your mind
Googling derealization, hating what you find
That unapparent summer air in early fall
The quiet comprehending of the ending of it all
“you show up, do your best and the results aren’t up to you. That actually feels like a huge relief. All the big stuff tends to happen when you’re making other plans. I’m quite into the surrender experiment. And 40? At 40, I’ll probably try and grow up a little bit.”
I wish I was younger
Butterflies in my chest when I asked for your number
You smiled and said, “you’re funny”
Two words and I was gone
You wrote it on my arm
I swear, we set off the alarm
Do you remember making out in the stands?
Showing up late and getting kicked out of bands?
Poor Mr. Kafer never could understand
Just take me back to who I was when I was younger
Do you remember riding home in the rain?
That Sunday morning, playing songs about Jane?
And from that moment I was never the same
Just take me back to who I was when I was younger
Some songs just hit that nostalgia perfectly 👌
Taylor Swift frees women to celebrate their girlhood, to understand that their womanhood is made up of these micro-chapters of change, that we’re not different people than we were then, that we shouldn’t disavow the earlier versions of ourselves, our earlier eras.
I was thinking about the notion of dividing a life into befores and afters — into eras; I was thinking about the way that it feels as if you’re always leaving things behind.
Maybe that’s what Eras really is: the acknowledgment of girls as people to memorialize, of who we are and who we were, all existing in the same body, on the same timeline. You are your sluttiest version, your silliest version, your most wholesome, your smartest, your dumbest, your saddest, your happiest — all at once.
I will always love you; in every iteration, every hue, every flavor, and every season of your being. All the way through.
Think I fell in love before I even knew your birthday
Don’t know who needs to read this, but stop stressing about who you’ll be in the future and start honoring how phenomenal you are in the present.
