Story Archive (Page 668 of 1,097)

Alanis Morrissette

‘Thank U’

Now, before I can get out of here my doctor says I have to make a list of my desires and feelings without breaking into schizophrenic tendencies. So here goes. And ooh, maybe he’ll even let me present them to him using my mawkish singing voice and pixelated pubes. I do hope so…

How ‘bout getting off these antibiotics

    I can’t help thinking they’re making me go a little peculiar

How ‘bout stopping eating when I'm full up

    I have big Mr. Creosote fears that I never had before

How ‘bout them transparent dangling carrots

    And my life never used to be cluttered with see-through phallic vegetation

How ‘bout that ever elusive kudos

    Which I need, if I’m ever going to be Miss World. Look, I’ve got my speech all sorted out…

Thank you India

    For being knocked out so early in a freak nail polish incident and giving me the chance to get this far in the competition almost as though I’d planned it that way…

Thank you terror

    For making me feel human as I came out onto this stage

Thank you disillusionment

    For being a big word I can use to impress the judges

Thank you frailty

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    For making me seem humble  
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Thank you consequence

    For letting my teen-angst bullshit make me enough money so I could finally wash the chip-fat out of my hair and be fluffily with you today

Thank you thank you silence

    I’m hoping your dumb-founded response is a positive sign for me and that crown… Ah well, back to the positivist statements…

How ‘bout me not blaming you for everything

    Just cos you told me that teen-freak bubble-perm suited me

How ‘bout me enjoying the moment for once

    Maybe in the future there’ll be more things that REALLY make me happy than just remembering I no longer have that bubble perm

How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you

    Even though you told me it suited me and made me sing for millions looking like a badly sculpted hedge

How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time

    Coherent sentences are now beyond me, but I’m getting over it. Even if I am now easily distracted – ooh, can I smell food?

Thank you India

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    For giving us spicy curry
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Thank you terror

    For only letting me near the mildest ones on the menu

Thank you disillusionment

    For making me grow as a person with my new-found poppadoms-not-being-hats knowledge

Thank you frailty

    For coming for my nan instead of me, hahaha

Thank you consequence

    Where would Christmas be without you? Or is that consequences? Maybe I should be quiet now…

Thank you thank you silence

    Or maybe I’ll just keep warbling on. But it’s nice to have silence as an option. Thankyou silence.

The moment I let go of it

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    I think Freud was right you know
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Was the moment I got more than I could handle

    Not about the cocaine-as-solution-to-everything part of his theorising

The moment I jumped off of it

    But about the constant penis allusions and desires in modern humans

Was the moment I touched down

    I mean, this ENTIRE VERSE is all about hand-jobs and shagging!

How ‘bout no longer being masochistic

    But all that isn’t the way to find that you love yourself!

How ‘bout remembering your divinity

    Telling yourself you’re a goddess is!

How ‘bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out

    A goddess who can cry! Unabashedly!

How ‘bout not equating death with stopping

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    Aah, I’ve lost it now…
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Thank you India

    For giving me a short word to start off the chorus

Thank you providence

    For letting me name-check you as though I know about the Fates

Thank you disillusionment

    For letting me stretch you out to seven syllables

Thank you nothingness

    Cos, like, I don’t mind that there’s no-one left to hear me any more

Thank you clarity

    For, ooh, helping me to realise that maybe if I was quiet more people might come back – it’s so lonely here with just my voice for company

Thank you thank you silence

    For being an option I think I’m going to take. Right now. Promise. If I can’t think of anything sensible to say, as my mom used to tell me, I should just keep my big yap shut. So I will do. No more songs about carrots I can’t see but that are definitely there. Honestly. I feel a lot better now. Can I go home yet .. ?