#and so the full lyric here is 'i sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind' which in the ckntext ive just explained means like

[indignantlemur]

A REVISED version of the original playlist:

Songs for a disenfranchised woman-out-of-time; separate and disconnected, uprooted but trying. Always, always trying.

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: HERE

Tracklist with lyric excerpts below the cut.

Savages - MARINA

Underneath it all we're just savages Hidden behind shirts, ties, and marriages How could we expect anything at all? We're just animals still learning how to crawl

Try - Nelly Furtado

And I have lived so many lives Though I'm not old And the more I see, the less I grow The fewer the seeds the more I sow Then I see you standing there Wanting more from me And all I can do is try Then I see you standing there Wanting more from me And all I can do is try, try

Stereo - The Watchmen

My life is a stereo What songs do I know? Whatever happened to my plans? Whatever happened to the life I thought I had? My life is a stereo, kind of cheaply made though How bad does it show? What ever did become of all my friends? What ever happened to the likes of all of them?

Thistle & Weeds - Mumford & Sons //

Spare me your judgments and spare me your dreams 'Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind

All Fall Down - OneRepublic //

Yeah, God love your soul and your aching bones Take a breath, take a step, meet me down below Everyone's the same, our fingers to our toes We just can't get it right, but we're on the road

If I Were A Weapon - Suzanne Vega //

Ooh If I were a weapon You said I'd be a gun Lethal at close range I guess With silencer and stun But I feel more like a needle Always pulling on the thread Always making the same point again And wondering if you heard what I just said

I Will Dance (When I Walk Away) - Katzenjammer //

I'm standing at the crossroads now, the fields of opportunities I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm full of hope and full of fear And bridges back have all been burned and freedom has been duly earned I'll remember why I've gone, remember where I'm coming from

Get Through This - Art of Dying //

If I can get through this I can get through anything If I can make it through this I can get through anything

Dancing on My Grave - Ghostland Observatory //

Another time Another day Another rhyme You'll always get your way

It's Alright - Mother Mother //

It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay You're not a monster, just a human And you made a few mistakes It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay You're not gruesome, just human And you made a few mistakes

Rise - Katy Perry //

When, when the fire's at my feet again And the vultures all start circling They're whispering, ”You're out of time.” But still, I rise This is no mistake, no accident When you think the final nail is in; think again Don't be surprised, I will still rise

The Enemy (from Wuthering Heights 2011) - L'Orchestra Numerique

[Instrumental]

[this-should-do]

oh u kno its getring serious when ive got hamd And eye imagery right next to each other

[rq-s]

Title: Falling Down 

Pairing: Xu Minghao / NB!Reader

Genre: Light Angst & Platonic OR Romantic

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: None. However, I do interpret the timeline and meaning of his lyrics loosely. I can’t and don’t claim that it’s the “correct” way to do so; he wrote it to be ambiguous for a wide audience to enjoy. Please watch the Falling Down Making Film for clarity.

Credits: ENG Translation of Falling Down 

Summary: You and Minghao have been consistent penpals since 2004, sharing each other’s cultures, languages, passions, and lives as you both grew up. 2014 came around and letter from him only came in 4 times, and only 1 in 2015. The last this you ever heard from him read he was a bird in a cage.

Notes: Italic = letter  ... = omitted letter content 

My Masterlist

Spring 2004

“How about this one, honey?” Mom handed me a postcard from a spot on the rack that I couldn’t reach. The large font caught my attention and told me it was a landscape picture of the closest national park. Though nothing in the picture was recognizable, it reminded me of camping, which made me smile despite having never been before.

“Sure.” Was all I said, and I followed her as she pushed our full shopping cart to the register and began chatting with the cashier.

Like usual, I quickly put the postcard on the conveyor belt along with the groceries. As soon as it was empty, I went to the bagging station and put the scanned and bagged items back into the cart. Making sure to the boxes and cartons together neatly like Tetris, careful not to squish the bread.

“What a diligent little kid you have!” The cashier spoke, her voice worn with age, but with a sense of joy that reminded me of a stereotypical grandmother.

“She always says I do it wrong.” Mom joked, smirking at me. She never did let go of my “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” attitude I had even as a kid.

 Mom finished paying, and we went put into the chilly morning air of the parking lot that was made even colder by the shadow of the supermarket. I once again moved the bags from the cart to the trunk and brought the cart to the nearest drop off spot while Mom started the car.

The ride home was mostly silent, save for the sound of the road beneath the wheels and the hum of the heater.

“Thanks for letting me do the penpal thing, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, but remember the deal; you get more chores to do. You’re 7 years old now, you can handle doing the dishes by yourself, right?” The tone of her voice was completely serious, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve been helping with the dishes for years, and I’ve learned from the best. I’ve got this!”

 When we got home, I scoured the bags for that postcard, and luckily it was only bent on one corner. I wrote down bit of info about that park - whatever Google told me, and set it aside. I grabbed the template application from my school binder and filled in the blanks. 

Hello! My name is _____________, I’m __ years old, and I am from ________! I am learning Mandarin, but I’m still a beginner. I hope to learn more about your culture and language as we exchange letters!

For now, I will tell you a bit about myself. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Along with this letter is a postcard and other information about where I am from!

I hope to hear from you soon!

Signed,

_____________

It was a pretty basic template that we had to copy from, and in retrospect, it was cringy as all heck, but it had to be formatted juuust right and follow the guidelines exactly, or the penpal program admin’s wouldn’t accept it.

From what I was told, someone from China who’d also applied and been approved would be paired with me, based on age and interests. Only this first letter was prewritten. Once we were paired up, the letters themselves and the mailing of them was up to me and my family. 

I was lucky I got a match at all, most of the kids in my class didn’t. I learned pretty quickly why: I was the only one who put “dancing” as an interest.  

Summer 2007

...

This was a frog I found at the lake! Mom got mad that I touched it, and when it jumped out of my hands and back into the water, it got mud all over us!! 

Later we had a barbecue and some other campers came buy, but their kids were teenagers and didn’t wanna play with me, so here is a picture of me pouting in the tent instead of having fun. 

...

This is the last one, when we finally got home from the long car ride. we all were sunburned really bad, but it looks like you can see freckles on my face because of it! 

Whenever either of us would go on trips, even just to the water park or to a festival, we’d take Polaroid pictures to send. Most the earlier pictures Minghao sent were of him at tournaments, then they turned into selfies from after dance practice. It wasn’t until they were in their teens that he began to take more artsy pictures, with the occasional selfie thrown in. He’d always put at least one polaroid in each envelope, and photography quickly became one of the many things he excelled at. 

Winter 2010

…

And I still can’t believe you were on TV!! Twice!!! All these letters… I can use them as blackmail someday when you’re a superstar! Muahah!!

I’m not nearly as good as you still, but Miss Lilly says my footwork has gotten a lot better! I wish you could teach me, but words don’t have the same effect as seeing it. I doubt I’d get it even if you tried to explain… and don’t even think about trying to teach me any martial arts, my brain will melt!!

…

My letters were always a bit longer than Minghao’s, and were full of run on sentences and unorganized thoughts. He was always clear and concise, yet sensitive. He always gave strong and encouraging advice on my Mandarin, but my English tips barely seemed to help him. I always cared more about getting to know him and telling my own stories than about practicing. Though, I don’t know what stories I had worth telling as a 13 year old. We contrasted each other a lot, and Mom said it made us a better fit for each other.

It wasn’t a weekly thing, but we always wrote when we could and has a steady back and forth. Sometimes the envelopes were thick, with many pages, postcards, candies, cool leaves or rocks we’d found, songs we had been listening too; things we cared about and wanted to share. But sometimes they were thin, barely a page long, with hastily written characters and a sincere apology. Both made me smile the same just the same – both showed how much he cared.

 Spring 2012

Perhaps it was because we were the same age, and despite not meeting, had spent so much time together. He somehow always understood me, and never made jokes when I was opening up about the less fun sides of life. He went at his own pace, and it took quite some time, but he eventually felt comfortable doing the same.

…

I’ve worked so hard for this, I know I’m capable, but I’m genuinely terrified. But I’m excited, too. I feel so overwhelmed and I don’t feel like I can tell anyone, they’ll worry, or they’ll tell me I shouldn’t do it.

I want to try. I want to be on that stage and in that tournament and I want to come out having earned something.

…

 Fall 2012

 Congratulations!! Now I can brag that I know THE Xu Minghao who won 8th at a WORLD DANCE COMPETITION!!!! I knew you’d do great. Yeah, you were nervous, but your hard work showed through!

As soon as I read the news online, I was so happy. Eight is a good number, right? I think It suits you. Even when you're laying down, you have infinite potential! That’s you, Xu Minghao, Number 8, my best friend.

Come to think of it, it's been about 8 years since we met, hasn’t it? it must be some sort of prophecy!!! Haha I’m kidding, but seriously… That’s more than half our lives. We’ve spent knowing each other half of the time we’ve even been on this Earth!

I’m really glad I know you, Minghao. I’d be lonely without your letters, I think. I hope I make your days brighter, like you make mine. I hope we never forget about each other.

 It was rare for me to get so sentimental, but he needed someone to be his fan, and I wanted to be the best fan of Xu Minghao I could be. Not to say I was the first, like I would joke about doing, but because he deserves it. I knew it from the way he talked about training, that he’d make himself a star someday, no matter what.

Because of this, though, it was this letter and onward that we stopped doing the copies and corrections. I noticed myself missing his teasing marks on my papers, or the cheeky smiley faces he’d draw when I did well. We stopped sending trinkets and polaroids too, so each envelope felt a lot emptier.

 Spring 2013

I’m really going to Korea now… The flight is in a few days, I’ll send you another letter from the new address as soon as I get there, so please wait for it!

…

I had bad dreams back then, about how things would be different, slower and distant. His letters were a significant part of my life, and I was afraid to lose that. Yet I was surprised he was even allowed to keep sending me letters. Retrospectively thinking though, it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to write to his family.

Was I like family to him back then?

 Winter 2013

I’m sorry for not writing you back sooner. The company has been really busy with Seventeen TV starting. I’ve been practicing a lot, I barely have time to eat or sleep, let alone sit down and write. There’s barely anyone around who knows Mandarin, and I’m still just learning how to make sentences in Korean, and they call me Myungho… Those who I can talk to are all boys, but they’re my friends, and possible group members, so I shouldn’t mind.

I miss your handwriting. Sometimes I reread our old letters, and notice that we’ve changed so much. But I keep every memory, did you know that?

I always feel better quickly. When I think about being on a stage, having fans singing with us and cheering for me… It makes me so happy that I cry, sometimes. But then I can’t help but think, “Will it ever be me? Or will I just dream of being there, and someone else will get the chance?”

That’s usually when I find one of your letters. The one you sent on my birthday a couple months ago, that you sprayed with that citrus scent? It’s my favorite, I relax so much when I read it. It reminds me of home, somehow.

I’ll try to write more often, I’m sure you’ve been patiently waiting. Let’s exchange pictures again, it’s been a while, right? I just really miss you.

 Was he like family to me? No… I think, back then at least, it was something special for me.

Summer 2014

Hey! I haven't heard from you since April! I miss you a lot, but I know you must be really busy. I’ve been trying to watch the previous Seventeen TV episodes when I can, the other boys seem funny and nice. I hope they all take care of you, like you say Junhui has been.

I’m always wishing you sweet dreams, I worry about how you’ve been. I wish I’d have asked for your phone number or email or something before, but now that you’re so busy and under a big company… I just hope these letters and postcards reach you well.

…

Fall 2014

…

Also, they’ve been saying I’ll qualify to be on SeventeenTV soon. The others are hoping it’s a sign that we’ll get to debut soon. You’ll watch it, right?

Things are looking bright for me and my brothers here, but I can’t help but feel full of dread. I can’t pinpoint why. Junhui said it might be stage fright, but I don’t feel afraid.

I know they all support me, and I support them, but I feel like I might disappear, and not even you would remember me. I know its not true but it’s what I’m feeling.

…

Winter 2014

I SAW YOU!! I watched it as soon as it released, I didn’t understand what most of them were saying without English subtitles, but I could understand you, and I saw you! I’m so proud of you Minghao, you’re an official member of Seventeen!! You’ve been working so hard, I’m sure you’re exhausted. Please try and take time to rest and heal before debut, all of you need it!

…

Spring 2015

May 26th 2015. That is the day I debut. I know we haven't talked much, but I hope you’ll be there in spirit. Thinking about you cheering for me makes it easier to handle. I’ll fight for you, for me, for them, and for us. I’ll try, even though things feel like they’re ending.

I’m going to be busier than before. I’m not sure about the contract, but I’ll try to still get letters out. For now, have this. Thank you for everything.

A layer of grey I can't escape Walls built of fear are colored all over with red Who will listen to the sound from the bottom of my heart at the end of the world(/day) There's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking I can't find love at all So why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Hidden by the dark clouds, helpless and pitiful Can't feel myself, light is lost Before the end of the world(/day), (I'm) yelling, sounds of pain But there's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking After I disappear completely, (you) won't realize I once existed Why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Falling endlessly, falling in silence What did I ever do wrong

Missing someone you’ve never met is an entirely separate kind of heartbreak. I began to doubt every single thought and feeling I had, every single word I wrote, everything began to bleed between imagination, ideal, and reality. 

The Minghao I watched on the screen wasn’t the Minghao I knew, and I started to wonder if I ever truly knew him in the first place. I felt like a fool, and even then, I continued to be foolish. I wanted to believe I knew what he meant; that I understood him, but as the years went on, I got more and more lost.

They won awards, they went on variety shows, they released albums, they went on tours. They traveled, they worked, and they grew. I needed to believe I knew him, but Minghao and The8 are not the same. And as I grew to love The8, Minghao began to fade into the back of my mind. When I watched him try to express himself beyond his stage persona, each time I saw flashes of a beautiful bird locked in a rusted cage.

I always kept the letters.

They’re my private collection of memories between he and I. They were the only way I knew it was real. I could run my fingers over his handwriting, feel how he sometimes pressed too hard and left marks in the paper. I could see how the paper and ink warped when he accidentally got tears on it. I could look at his pictures from his childhood and know what he was thinking as he took it. 

I knew him.

Summer 2020

Hey, Minghao. It’s me, do you still remember my handwriting? Maybe it’s changed... No, I know it has, because I’ve changed as a person. It feels strange, I know what you’ve been up to, but you might’ve even forgotten my name. But I feel in my heart that you havn’t. Maybe thats wishful thinking.

Anyway, I’m so proud of you Minghao. You’re a superstar, just like you dream of being back when you first started dancing. You’ve become part of a family, and have so many fans cheering for you every single day. Congratulations!!

…

5 years. Does the smell of citrus still remind you of home? Of me? Maybe it just reminds you of the hard times you had back then. But I guess you’ve been reminiscing about that a lot lately?

I watched the video as soon as it came out, and I was shaking as soon as I heard your voice. That song isn’t a special piece of yourself that you shared with me anymore, but it’s part of your story for the whole world to see, and you told it so well.

...

I miss you.

It was finally time.

It was a fairly thick envelope, inside were many postcards of where I’ve been, quickly written notes as I reacted to songs and memorable moments, and full-length letters that never got sent.

It was so surreal to sit in front on him at this panel. He looks just like he did as a kid, but more refined, stronger inside and out. His aura intimidated me like I was seeing a skyscraper touch the clouds for the first time, and yet he maintained eye contact with me like I was a dandelion about to be blown away with the breeze.

“It’s me, Minghao.” The words barely drifted from my mouth, but they struck him like lightning as realization stealing his breath away. For a moment I saw his eyes twinkle, and the corners of this lips twitch.

A member of staff took the envelop away from him; he barely was able to read the label.

My time would be up soon.

His fingers intertwined with mine and he opens my photobook to his page with his free hand, looking down for only a moment to sign it.

The next Carat was nudging my shoulder already.

“Not yet.” I whispered both to them and to him with a squeeze of his hand. He did the same, like a beat of the heart, and then released. I watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he gave the next fan the same focus and care he gave me. 

I forced a smile on my face as I scooted over.

Did he truly realize it was me? Why could I feel his heart beating faster from the tips of his fingers? Did he want to contact me all this time, or had he chosen to stop and was scared to tell me? Did he miss me too?  

My smile was only fake for a moment, though.

I was meeting his second family for the first time, after all, I needed to make a good impression. After years of keeping up with the group, it should have been easier to feel comfortable, and to be happy like the others.

Yet my hands continued to shake, their faces blurred and the sounds around me went quiet. My senses went in and out of focus like waves reaching and leaving the shore.

The warmth and the texture of his hand stained mine, and as i stared down at it after going back to my seat in the crowd, it felt alien. His hands are same hands that have been writing my name on every envelope for so many years...

I felt like I was falling.

[thesinglesjukebox]

WAXAHATCHEE - FIRE

[7.14]

When there's nothing left to burn...

Juana Giaimo: I've been listening to "Fire" ever since it came out. Sometimes, it hurts while other it feels liberating. It's all already present in the instant her high-pitched voice suddenly cuts through the quiet keyboard. The rest of the song flows naturally -- more instruments start appearing, the beat suddenly becoming like an encouraging caress and the guitar lines soothing her voice. "For some of us it ain't enough", she sings as her tone lowers and I can't avoid thinking in all the times I realized how much pressure I put in myself -- and in others, because as she sings, "If I could love you unconditionally"... but can she? And that's the thing: it's liberating when you think you can do it, and it hurts when you think you'll be like this forever. [10]

Vikram Joseph: Katie Crutchfield has seemed to be on the brink of an imperial phase for years now, and this might just be the dawn of it. I enjoyed Out in the Storm a lot, but "Fire" strips everything back and puts the focus squarely on Crutchfield's songwriting again, and the result is a thing of ephemeral beauty and heartwrenching dignity. Her songs have a way of getting to me, of piercing through the early hours of the day and honing in on my quietest thoughts. The crux of "Fire" is the line "For some of us, it ain't enough." It often feels like a lot of people sail through life with desires and dreams that are straightforward, tangible and easily fulfilled within the structures of our society. Waxahatchee is for those of us who fear we might never not be in search of something more. [9]

Leah Isobel: The in medias res opening, with Katie Crutchfield singing at the highest edge of her voice and then sliding down her range, sets the tone - after the emotional extremes of her last two projects, "Fire" acts as a comedown into something decidedly less volatile. It's well-deserved. But its ragged contentment probably works better in the context of a full-length record; taken on its own terms, "Fire" only expresses the warm glow of its title, not its destructive, cleansing power. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: "Fire" ends with an ache, with unresolve; it needs another minute, another verse, another anything. But such incompleteness is key: Crutchfield knows the disbelief of hard-fought love reaching its end, of flames left to wither -- emptiness is there, always. As keys open the song in homespun, numinous splendor, her voice irrupts the space before gradually sinking (in intensity, melodically): a coming-to-terms in real time. "Give me something/It ain't enough" becomes a moment of unwanted, unforgiving clarity. Loping guitars provide some semblance of comfort, but it's the bumbling drums -- reminiscent of half-garbled confessions and thumping hearts -- that echo her hurt. Heartbreak is anything but Lethean; that pain sits with you when it's over: as absence, as numbness, as void. [8]

Kayla Beardslee: "Fire" is, I think, about the inability to commit, and I feel similarly about the song itself. Combing through the lyrics felt unrewarding on first listen, especially with the raw vocals, but it's all unfolded a bit with further repetitions. The lyrics do need the swelling music behind them to convince, but the thesis is there ("Give me something... It ain't enough"), the melody is pleasant, and the music is warm. Though the track still isn't quite hitting me in the right emotions (to be fair, they're a small and moving target), I've been oddly compelled to keep listening. Fire is complicated: it can create or destroy. [6]

Jonathan Bradley: Katie Crutchfield's voice flickers in strange and volatile formations, a flame licking around the melody looking for fuel. Her arrangement, however, is steady and certain: keys with stately chords and a heart that pumps warm blood. Such a relief, that arrangement, with its rolling drum beat, such comfort in the feeling that a blaze might be contained, that it might be a source of life rather than something grown wild and destructive. Crutchfield invokes the river and the sky, the liminal places in cars and on bridges and between the burred parts of tainted towns at the edges of the city. "For some of us it ain't enough," she murmurs, and she doesn't say what isn't enough, because the sense is that maybe nothing could be: perhaps it is the same unknown Lucinda Williams saw by the side of the road. [9]

Brad Shoup: "I'm a bird in the trees/I can learn to see with a partial view" is not only a sneaky-good internal rhyme, it's tapping a find-coziness/accept-mortality combo. Her vocal leaps in, barely contained, and gets settled by a crisply recorded slow lope of a backbeat. Because of the pace, maybe, it ends up like church music. [7]

Tim de Reuse: You've got the instrumental: rickety, skeletal, sparse enough that each note of the plucky guitar line barely leads into the next one. You've got the voice: dynamically expressive, sans vibrato, with circular harmonies and unpredictable syncopation in the middle verses. This is a tune about the difficulty of being vulnerable that's exactly as uncomfortable and awkward as its subject matter deserves, and it's all the more believable for it. [8]

Alfred Soto: She has a sound: a guitar picking that sketches tracks as skeletal as elm branches in winter. "Fire" combines song and sound, foregoing some of her identity too. Her melodies aren't as indelible as Mitski's, who shares this approach. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: A looping, synth build climbs, then pauses as pebble drums drop and Katie's piercing, cutting voice wafts up a running riff of bass and flattened guitar, which opens out for a slow snare pattern. The harmonies lurk alongside each other uneasily, with toms scattered down and piling on the right side of the mix. Allison drifts into the shadows, the bass loops once more and it fades into the morning fog. [6]

Kylo Nocom: The initial starkness is a fault, highlighting the obnoxiousness of the folk-y vocals; given some time, however, the song's central warmth slips out of every word she sings. [6]

Thomas Inskeep: I'm down with the low-key, lo-fi keyboards and the production in general, but why is she singing like that? That is one seriously off-putting voice. [3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Fire" is gradual and well-crafted (the electric piano tone alone sounds so good that it made me look at the producer credits) and a little boring. It stretches out over its three and a half minutes like a cat in a sunbeam, never hitting any particular emotional high. I'm not so sure it needs to -- Katie Crutchfield sounds relaxed here in a sort of stasis, letting rolling drums and intricate guitar lines surround her. [6]

Julian Axelrod: Katie Crutchfield makes music for miscommunication. Her songs are deeply intimate and interior, but her lyrics are littered with lines from arguments and words left unsaid. Yet "Fire" is clear and uncluttered, honest and direct. It's an adult conversation with eye contact and mutual respect. And while it's still directed inward, it's informed by a lifetime of compromises and missed opportunities. Of course, communication never come without complications; Crutchfield is haunted by heartbreak and vice and the thoughts that keep her up at night. But the refrain -- "That's what I wanted" -- nods at the bravery of recognizing your true desires. It's an affirmation of the self after years of neglect, one of those rare beautiful moments when you can actually hear yourself think. The song stretches and unfurls like an endless highway, and the keys ripple like sun through the windshield. "Fire" is Waxahatchee's best song yet, and it feels like a promise: If you spend enough time chipping away at yourself, you can create something beautiful. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]