Uma ode ao que não é necessário A sofisticação de inutilidades Seguimos vivendo os dias, adaptando os planos O jogo não começa agora, está valendo há muito tempo Desde a primeira partida, campeonato longo Gostamos de jogar com graça E, sempre que dá, De manter intactas as canelas dos outros Necessidades desnecessárias
FILTER Magazine: In your song “Landlocked Blues”—the Laura character is lying on the bed, then gets up to go to the bathroom to either puke or do drugs or whatever the fuck she’s doing in there, and your line is, “It takes one to know one, kid. I think you’ve got it bad.” Which is a really kind thing to say. It’s not just understanding frailty, it’s empathizing with it.
Conor Oberst: Because that’s when you connect. For me, I don’t know why or how—and some people have tried to tell me—the easy answer is to try to pin it on Catholic guilt. But I don’t know, I never felt like much of a Catholic to begin with. But somehow, self-deprecation is something I have a love of. In understanding other people’s faults or writing about them in a loving way, you kind of forgive yourself too. You forgive your own. And realize we’re all a little broken. We’re all a little twisted. We’re all a little less than we could be or want to be. On the one hand, that’s making them feel better, but there’s also some selfishness to it of forgiving yourself and accepting yourself through your empathy for them.
I’ve used three boxes of Kleenexes today. New world champion? I believe so.