Showing posts with label breaking up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breaking up. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

It's Never Over, R.E.M. (And I Feel Fine!)


Somewhere, my 12-year-old self is weeping. Michael Stipe and friends have announced that the party is over.

R.E.M. is breaking up.

From the band's site:
"To our Fans and Friends: As R.E.M., and as lifelong friends and co-conspirators, we have decided to call it a day as a band. We walk away with a great sense of gratitude, of finality, and of astonishment at all we have accomplished. To anyone who ever felt touched by our music, our deepest thanks for listening." R.E.M.
They've been making music for 31 years together. 31! I haven't even been alive that long. I'm not really sad. What's there to be sad about, anyway? I think it was probably time. And obviously, I know best.

But seriously, you might recall my love for R.E.M. Oh, what? You haven't read the entire archive of this blog? Shame on you! Yeah. I loved—love— R.E.M. Read about that right here.

So, seeing as how I've already said too much, and I haven't said enough, let's listen to some R.E.M.!

Perhaps, at their most beautiful?






And where would I be without the Automatic for the People album?

 

 "I want you to remember..."


Okay, let's all put on some flannel, some Doc Martens, listen to "Strange Currencies", and talk about our feelings!

"I'd be foolish not to say":

Don't worry,  R.E.M.; it's never gonna be over between us. 

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Dear Jameson,

Look, it’s just not working out between us. This has gone on way too long. It’s my fault. Really, it is. I’m willing to accept the blame. Every time I think I'm done with you, I come back again.

But the thing is, I have to stand up for myself. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s not worth it. Sure, you make me feel good about myself at first, but then you just leave me. And leave me feeling like shit. The headache is not worth it anymore. I think it’s best if we just accept this for what it was—a fling. You’re not offering me what I really need. I need someone that’s going to be there for me. Frankly, you just use me whenever it’s convenient for you.

I deserve better. Besides, you’re such a player. I see you, flirting with everyone else at the bar. I can’t compete with that. And I shouldn’t have to compete with that. You never even care that I'm sitting right there! I see what you're doing.

Enough is enough. We're over. I break up.

I'll always love you,
Ali