“Life would be a party it’d be everything.”
Lyrics to a pop song that’s probably forgotten by now (likely for the best). It’s a bit of throwaway garbage with about as much depth as a single sheet of printer paper. I remember hating the song when it came out. I still do, but whenever you find something particularly awful, it becomes exemplary of so many things that you hate that you think about from time to time, and it takes on a meaning of its own. Its the meaning that you’ve given it. Your loathing gives it power that it never otherwise would have had.
“All we need in this world is some love.”
Generic, cliche’s that could be interchangeable with just about anything. Meaningless lyrics spoken without any feeling, talking about things that are not felt and are not meant. Opening your mouth to fill the void with empty clutter.
It’s hard to imagine that these are idea people base their lives around. We become fixated on the idea that our manic pixie dreamboat exists. Some lover to rush into our lives, wave a magic wand and everything becomes better. We’ve long abandoned fairytales, but we still want Snow White’s Kiss, to find that the glass slipper fits, for there to be blue sparkles and everything to get happily ever after.
It all comes down to wanting to be loved, though I think there are more serious needs than that.
“If I had you, life would be a party it’d be everything.”
There it is of course, the chorus line. That catchy refrain endlessly repeated but spoken to no one person in general. It’s putting someone on a pedestal, thinking that one person is going to bring you your fairytale ending.
Funny how something so meaningless can carry so much weight when you think about the cultural impact of all the meaningless things. Everyone is chasing the meaningless to the point where they acknowledge it in their own music and public personas in an attempt to make meaningless itself into a statement of meaning without actually meaning anything at all.
There is no depth, no substance to these concepts and yet we are drowning in them to the point that they become an endless reality. Flashing lights, smoke and mirrors, catchy hooks and broken hearts confusing a pop song with reality. People are not archetypes or saviors.
People are flawed, broken, and they can’t even save themselves let alone anyone else. When we look to others to be our guiding lights and angels we don’t see them as they are but as we want them to be. This is unfair to both them and us. Life isn’t a pop song where people explode into glitter and falling in love won’t solve all your problems. Love can be nice, and it can be terrible as well and you can fall in love with people who are terrible and quite cruel. You can fall in love all you like and your problems will still be waiting there for you.
I’m not even sure if people want love as much as they want to feel validated. They want someone to say, “Hey your existence is worthwhile.” But they need it to feel a bit deeper than that, as they won’t believe it from just anyone. So they need someone to say it over and over again. They need someone to say it every morning and every night. They need someone to say it while they’re fucking. Someone to say it in their worst moments. Someone to say it in their best. They need someone to say it so often that it becomes as meaningless and irrelevant as the pop songs on the radio.
They need to hear, “I love you.”
They need to stamp out what it actually means so that it becomes filler, a punctuation mark at the end of their sentences. They need it fed into them like an IV. They need it like a drug. Not love, just the declaration of it.
Actual love is something difficult and something that doesn’t arrive overnight. It’s an insidious creeping thing that may not happen for some of us ever at all. I’m not even sure if we understand what love truly is at all. We just keep singing songs about it and looking for it because somehow we’ve got it into our head that all we need is love. Love is all we need, love is all we need.
Love may save all you people, but it will never save me.