Dancing On My Own

These words feel huge.

Like I’m a tiny spec trying to hold something enormous; probably only visible to me.


When I’m sad I can’t tolerate the complication that is you

I can’t contemplate it.

When I’m happy, when work and family and the rest of life is going well, I can tolerate it. I can see you and not wonder what the deficit is. Not wonder what this is, not wonder why I let myself be pulled ever further towards drowning, sure why would I? Don’t I think I can swim.

I can’t swim



But in actuality, I am the definition of that Robyn song; I’m in the corner watching you kiss her…

I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home…


I keep dancing on my own.




The lust of my life got married last month. Not to me, I might point out. And I was struggling to reconcile how I felt about it. I still don’t know, but I love this song, it makes me happy because at least Robyn knows, she gets it. 

Here it is, if you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know it:

Super Amazing Robyn Track

And that white boy, bleeding heart, cover can get fucked.

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