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I’ve been trying to learn how to not be so conflicted about things like my own anger. I’ve always had a place in my music for my anger as a way of compensating for not having a mechanism to express it in my everyday life. So I’ve been trying to be more true to myself, and that helps me to chill out a little bit. But politically, uh-uh. No.
I seriously hate pop music and all things super-commercial.
Art is why I get up in the morning but my definition ends there. You know I don’t think its fair that I’m living for something I can’t even define.
I’ve never had a very closely connected family. My parents split up when I was young and I was living with my mom for a little while, then I was kind of just on my own really young. It wasn’t some kind of global tragedy, it was just never really a very close-knit family. So there was support in the sense that they didn’t stand in my way.
Maybe you don’t like your job, maybe you didn’t get enough sleep, well nobody likes their job, nobody got enough sleep. Maybe you just had the worst day of your life, but you know, there’s no escape, there’s no excuse, so just suck up and be nice.
Strangers are exciting, their mystery never ends. But, there’s nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends.
God forbid you be an ugly girl, ‘course too pretty is also your doom, ’cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.
I’d rather be able to face myself in the bathroom mirror than be rich and famous.
I hate it when people don’t recognize the work of women as being universal, or having any import to the world at large, as opposed to men’s work, which is generally tends to be seen as more universal – men’s writing about their own experience tends to be put in a broader context.
I was blessed with a birth and a death, and I guess I just want some say in between.