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The Girl Wants to Believe
Nov. 23rd, 2008 10:51 pm“There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.” - George Eliot
Fight or flight. The path of least resistance. Letting the past dictate her future. These were all topics of discussion from Pippa’s ongoing therapy sessions, subjects that beat home the fact that she wasn’t really making any progress. She’s stalled herself at ‘functioning’ and has stopped trying to move past the idea of simply getting by. What was it that was stopping her? Fear.
Fear of what?
Memories. Flashbacks. Remembering.
But it’s already happened, you’ve survived and you know the outcome even if the memories are unpleasant. You know you managed to survive. We’re supposed to fear the unknown, not what we are already familiar with, right?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Start small. What’s one small thing that still scares you? One little trigger you keep avoiding?
Music.
Music?
His music.
That must make things very…
Difficult, yes.
Pick one song. I want you to listen to it. Don’t turn it off. See what happens.
I’ll try.
You try.
She was standing in his living room, in front of the stereo, CD in hand. The jewel case was open, the stereo on and the tray open and waiting. Still, Pippa couldn’t quite do it. She knew the song. Knew the track. Knew that it was exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds long. She could recall a lot in three minutes and forty-six seconds.
Pippa licked her lips but resisted the urge to wipe the sweat she could feel across the back of her neck. Tried to ignore the shadowy twinge of pain that shot along her left hand, culminating in a dull throb where her fifth knuckle ended in a stub of mottled flesh instead of an elegant pinky finger. Blinking back tears, she twitched at the sound of an open palm striking her bare flesh, wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of decay. She didn’t even have to play the music to remember.
She couldn’t do this. Not today, not now. Fight or flight. She wanted to choose flight. Wanted to drop the disc on the carpeted floor and run from the room. Run for the safety of his arms. If you can’t do this, how can you be certain he’ll even be there to hold you? Isn’t he worth fighting for? And isn’t his music part of him? Part of what you love? Pippa closed the jewel case and turned off the stereo.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to face the music on her own, confront the memories alone. Rory wanted her to talk to him about things, wanted to help her. She only had to listen to one song, all the way through. Her shrink never said she had to play the CD. Just listen to the song. Now the question was, could she ask Rory to do this for her and would she be able to explain why she needed this from him?
The musician was in his bedroom; Pippa could hear him fiddling with an arrangement at his keyboard, sometimes switching to one of his guitars to test some little element or another. She stood in the doorway, watching Rory, trying to find the courage to interrupt. Pippa didn’t have to search long; the fey had been aware of her presence and eventually turned to smile at her when she remained silent.
“Ro…can I ask you something?” Her voice was small and hesitant, almost childish in the uncertainty it carried. That alone was enough to bring him to her side, concern turning his bright grin into something more soothing as he nodded. Pippa wound her arms about his waist before continuing, “Will you hold me, rock me…like you used to? Sing to me? I’d like to hear my song.”
Her song. Believer Girl, Rory’d written the tune for her and turned it into something for the band’s set list months ago. She both loved and loathed the melody, the lyrics. When that monster, John Larch, held her captive and systematically stripped her of everything but fear and the promise of death, he’d played that song over and over…without knowing the significance it held. She hasn’t been able to listen to it since.
But now, if she could be in the one place where she felt safest, if she could just listen to the words and the warm, rich sound of Rory’s voice…hear the song stripped as bare as she’d been…maybe it would help. Maybe she could heal. Maybe she could fight.
“Please sing to me Ro…”
Pippa Kerr//Last Call//738
Fight or flight. The path of least resistance. Letting the past dictate her future. These were all topics of discussion from Pippa’s ongoing therapy sessions, subjects that beat home the fact that she wasn’t really making any progress. She’s stalled herself at ‘functioning’ and has stopped trying to move past the idea of simply getting by. What was it that was stopping her? Fear.
Fear of what?
Memories. Flashbacks. Remembering.
But it’s already happened, you’ve survived and you know the outcome even if the memories are unpleasant. You know you managed to survive. We’re supposed to fear the unknown, not what we are already familiar with, right?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Start small. What’s one small thing that still scares you? One little trigger you keep avoiding?
Music.
Music?
His music.
That must make things very…
Difficult, yes.
Pick one song. I want you to listen to it. Don’t turn it off. See what happens.
I’ll try.
You try.
She was standing in his living room, in front of the stereo, CD in hand. The jewel case was open, the stereo on and the tray open and waiting. Still, Pippa couldn’t quite do it. She knew the song. Knew the track. Knew that it was exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds long. She could recall a lot in three minutes and forty-six seconds.
Pippa licked her lips but resisted the urge to wipe the sweat she could feel across the back of her neck. Tried to ignore the shadowy twinge of pain that shot along her left hand, culminating in a dull throb where her fifth knuckle ended in a stub of mottled flesh instead of an elegant pinky finger. Blinking back tears, she twitched at the sound of an open palm striking her bare flesh, wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of decay. She didn’t even have to play the music to remember.
She couldn’t do this. Not today, not now. Fight or flight. She wanted to choose flight. Wanted to drop the disc on the carpeted floor and run from the room. Run for the safety of his arms. If you can’t do this, how can you be certain he’ll even be there to hold you? Isn’t he worth fighting for? And isn’t his music part of him? Part of what you love? Pippa closed the jewel case and turned off the stereo.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to face the music on her own, confront the memories alone. Rory wanted her to talk to him about things, wanted to help her. She only had to listen to one song, all the way through. Her shrink never said she had to play the CD. Just listen to the song. Now the question was, could she ask Rory to do this for her and would she be able to explain why she needed this from him?
The musician was in his bedroom; Pippa could hear him fiddling with an arrangement at his keyboard, sometimes switching to one of his guitars to test some little element or another. She stood in the doorway, watching Rory, trying to find the courage to interrupt. Pippa didn’t have to search long; the fey had been aware of her presence and eventually turned to smile at her when she remained silent.
“Ro…can I ask you something?” Her voice was small and hesitant, almost childish in the uncertainty it carried. That alone was enough to bring him to her side, concern turning his bright grin into something more soothing as he nodded. Pippa wound her arms about his waist before continuing, “Will you hold me, rock me…like you used to? Sing to me? I’d like to hear my song.”
Her song. Believer Girl, Rory’d written the tune for her and turned it into something for the band’s set list months ago. She both loved and loathed the melody, the lyrics. When that monster, John Larch, held her captive and systematically stripped her of everything but fear and the promise of death, he’d played that song over and over…without knowing the significance it held. She hasn’t been able to listen to it since.
But now, if she could be in the one place where she felt safest, if she could just listen to the words and the warm, rich sound of Rory’s voice…hear the song stripped as bare as she’d been…maybe it would help. Maybe she could heal. Maybe she could fight.
“Please sing to me Ro…”
Pippa Kerr//Last Call//738
(no subject)
Nov. 4th, 2008 10:49 amFirstly, this is my favorite music video, ever. Well, the original version anyhow. Secondly, Ro...you'll know Breaker Street has arrived when someone does this to one of your music videos. Thirdly, please make sure you guys shoot at least one horribly odd video that these guys can play with.
Songs I Can't Get Enough Of...
Oct. 10th, 2008 03:29 pmI've been playing with my iPod and completely wiped out everything that had been on it. I haven't bothered putting more than this handful of songs back.
Music Meme
Aug. 10th, 2008 02:56 amWarning:
By posting this up you are subjecting yourself to other peoples tastes in music. First rule of Play List is do not get offended by the music people share with you. Your cup of tea is could be someone else's leafy water.Warning:
By posting this up should be willing to seek out the same meme on your friends list and give them some music too!01. How it works: Place this post up in your journal.
02. Fellow friends list members [and their writers too] are to then in turn comment to your post with music.
03. Said music is shared via an upload that you can download, or a link to lyrics for the connection challenged that reminds them of you.
04. When you comment leave the song title and artist in the subject line so that if someone else thought of the same song they don't have to send it to you again
05. With enough people and enough variety of songs you should end up with a lovely playlist inspired by those that know you pretty well. [or so you hope]
06. Download and enjoy!
(no subject)
Jul. 18th, 2008 02:37 am1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...just type it in
Opening Credits: Don't You Forget About Me--Simple Minds
( Read more... )
My iPod is obviously in a funk because not ONE Breaker Street song came up. That's ridiculous.
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...just type it in
Opening Credits: Don't You Forget About Me--Simple Minds
( Read more... )
My iPod is obviously in a funk because not ONE Breaker Street song came up. That's ridiculous.
[For Aryn]
Jul. 16th, 2008 09:46 pmooc: obviously not Breaker Street, as they are fictional but the mun for the band members has likened their sound to this song
Chasing the Sun
by The Calling.
{Intro for muse_shuffle}
Jul. 16th, 2008 02:10 amHello, I'm Pippa Kerr. If you're into the nightlife on Staten Island (and anyone in Manhattan making snide remarks, kindly keep them to yourselves, please) you've probably seen me or at least know of the bar I wait tables at most nights. Last Call. Live music five nights a week, karaoke and open mic nights on alternating Fridays. Wednesdays and Saturdays are the best nights though. My personal favorites play then: Breaker Street.
I talk about them a lot, I do. But I do it with good reason, they are amazing. And really, Last Call is great. Good crowds, good service, the drinks are never watered down. And me, I'm there to be your waitress.
I suppose I should tell you a little bit more about myself. I'm a native New Yorker, I actually love living on Staten though that is not where I grew up. I have a puppy named Mr. Beaker who is just adorable and I like riding pillion when my boyfriend has his motorcycle.
Oh, and I blow glass in my spare time.
I talk about them a lot, I do. But I do it with good reason, they are amazing. And really, Last Call is great. Good crowds, good service, the drinks are never watered down. And me, I'm there to be your waitress.
I suppose I should tell you a little bit more about myself. I'm a native New Yorker, I actually love living on Staten though that is not where I grew up. I have a puppy named Mr. Beaker who is just adorable and I like riding pillion when my boyfriend has his motorcycle.
Oh, and I blow glass in my spare time.
Hey Ro...What do you think?
Apr. 21st, 2008 03:26 pmDo Not Want
I used to think kids playing the recorder was the worst "music" ever. Wrong. Russian-American artists Vitaly Komar and Alex Melamid conducted a poll a few years back of the music people hated the most, like holiday music, harps and bossanova synths. And they've compiled all of that, and much, much more that into a single 23-minute long song odyssey of sonic suck. But you should listen to it. Why? Opera rapping. Opera. Rapping. Starts at the 1:40 mark. --gizmodo.com
(no subject)
Apr. 15th, 2008 07:19 pmI've had this on repeat all afternoon. Anyone else have a song that is just that
Inspired by one word: Addicted
Apr. 13th, 2008 03:29 amYou haunt me in my dreams
Everywhere it’s you I see
Trying not to think so much about you
Can't you ever just let me be?
I want to stop this maddening slow dance
The twisted, one-sided romance
My back is turned on you
Now please stop calling to me
In that gentle easy way you always do
Lover that’s not meant for me
You’re the one I’ve been looking for
You’re the one I adore
Lover that keeps tormenting me
Don’t you see I’m the one for you
The fantasy fell apart at the seams
Everything beautiful I imagined
My lifetime of happiness with you
Failed, it never would have happened
If you would have given us the chance
Given me more than just a passing glance
All those things I loved about you
You turned out not to be
And still my heart won’t believe it’s true
Lover that’s not meant for me
You’re the one I’ve been looking for
You’re the one I adore
Lover that keeps tormenting me
Don’t you see I’m the one for you
Lover that’s not meant for me
You’re the one I’ve been looking for
You’re the one I adore
Lover that keeps tormenting me
Don’t you see I’m the one for you
~~Phillipa Kerr 2008
