Sep 14, 20212 min read

There goes my Baby - The Drifters

Two blog posts in one day! Can you tell I have free time on my hands?? But I have a lot of ideas, songs and time so why not

This song and Bye Bye Baby make me think of saying farewell to Baby

Other songs make me thing of it in a funeral like way, particularly ones about a moment of silence, because no one mourned the loss of her but me, but these ones make me think of saying goodbye to the identity like waving her off. As she strolls into the sunset, with flowers in her hair or something equally cliche and romantic

I like that version a lot better. Thinking of the identity as dying inside me, which is what really happened, feels darker and sadder than a sweet happy goodbye

There’s a quote, a really good one, I’ll try and find it, about how painful it is to change as the dying selves die inside of you And it captures it perfectly

There’s this one: “I remember what had been circling in me - I am beautiful, I am full of love, I am dying” - Ada Limon

“What a shame she went mad, you made her like that” - Taylor Swift

“So take a moment of silence, goodbye” - Lucidious, Josh Woods

“To die inside the person you once were” - Alejandro Pizarnik “Because the first thing a monster learns is when to lie” - Micaiah Johnson

“Some traumas are not visible”

“Too much perfection is a mistake” “My heart breaks for every version of myself”

“I was born with an arrow in my heart. And it is too painful to pull it and it is too painful to leave it” - Khalil Gibran

“This lost boy got fly without Peter Pan” “Where have you been? - don’t ask. Never ask.” - Betty blue

“I’ll wear black. It goes with your songs.” - Cleo de 5 a 7

“The greatest pain does not come from living in mirages, but from awakening. There is no greater pain than awakening from a dream, the deep crying over the dying selves” - Anais Nin

That’s what it felt like, living inside a dream, fairyland my mum calls it, I was away with the fairies. And then I woke up

To harsh, brutal reality. And I grieved, and I mourned. For Baby, for the predictions I had made, delusions I had had. Everything that turned out not to be true

I had been told my dreams would come true. And then I found myself in agony, in a hospital, on a psychiatric ward Things went from worse to worse for me

But I like making things, so I decided to use the pain, to create And I wrote songs and books and filled diaries and scrapbooks with words and quotes

And that’s the person I will always be when you strip away the make up

A writer, a lover of words, messy, imperfect and chaotic. Destructive. Plain, always a bit sad, darker than she looks at first glance

But happier than she ever thought she could be

Because I never thought I’d be free of Baby