Hi by Warpaint. 2014.
Up all night
You wore your falling heart
And opened up to us
And now we know the place you left
You sailed the saddest smile
And turned it inside out
Your mother
She knows your face
Can do without
In the middle of the day
We find love
In the middle of the day
We find love
Or is it ;
You said the saddest mind ?
In any case, I would turn it around, flip it over, change that a little bit. I would say, you said the quietist mind. Since I am not averse to inverting things myself. And it is about that a little bit, being quiet inside your head.
I needed to pick a book, retreat into myself, be in my own head for a while and just read. Let it go Joker style. I am glad I chose this one. I withdrew, not forfeiting anything, I pulled back into my shell. At last alone in my head, I read. And I read I read until I wasn't reading anymore. This gorgeous book.
As it happens with a turn of a page; I opened this and
I immediately fell in love with this book, first with the cover then with the name, the title I mean, and then with the story itself.
You know, there are some overly hyped books that have everyone talking about them. I think to myself they can't possibly live up to the hype. That much hype. That's normally the rule, right? I thought this can't possibly be as great as everyone says it is. Look, what they have been saying. Yet this was such an exception and it was without doubt exceptionally good. It quickly became personal and one of my personal favorites.
That being said, however. It's an odd little book. It's funny, after having just finished it, I still don't know how I feel about it. I am particularly ambivalent about the ending. It wasn't ambiguous or anything like that. It was very clear about what it needed to be. But. You have to be better than your ending, you know? Oh, you do know.
I can't decide whether I love this book or just loathe it. I loved it, without question. Yet I question that love. Or maybe I just loathe it; just hold a mirror to what I just wrote. It's like a coin is still spinning in the air, twisting round and round, and round it goes. One moment I like it, then the other side is up, then not so much. So I remain undecided. I mean, it is good and very readable. But it made me feel too much without making me feel the night. Not sure, how a coin got up there, considering I didn't toss any.
Here's the thing, one true thing, this is a very saddening novel. In fact, in some ways, it is the saddest, saddest book I have ever read. Though I think it is an important work that needs to be read widely. All we could use a bit understanding when it comes to mental illness. We all could use a bit of understanding of each other regardless of anything.
The most haunting and poignant thing for me was, the way our protagonist encountered casual brutality and the way he recounted all the violence and abuse he witnessed on his pages in an almost nonchalant manner, was nothing short of mind-blowing. It was equal parts both mesmerizing and fascinating. And all of it heart-breaking and every little bit of it devastating. In that, the whole thing heavily reminded me of Perks of Being a Wallflower. But make no mistake, our hero is a very unreliable narrator and a bit of judgemental jerk. He was kind of an asshole. So take everything he says with a grain of salt. Or maybe with an entire jar of salt.
I just wish there were much more interactions between Alice and the Fly. But then if that were the case, then this would have been a completely different book and would have missed the point. But hey, I was right about the name. It was based on Her. Just don't tell Alice this isn't her wonderland anymore. But this is still her month. Stop raging against her.
I think I read somewhere there was a twist ending. Maybe they just meant the ending, which was a bit of a downer. I am not giving anything away. It's all in burbs and the foreboding was obvious from the get-go. Even before you read the first page.
So,
There was no twist, only an ending.
I think I'll read this again.
Looks like Warpaint has been right after all
they have a right of it
and a right to wage this war
seems to me like Warpaint are always
Right.
Forever listening to them. Are they listening to me?
It is only in the night, I can still paint this war. It's at night this warpaint is mine.