Health and wellbeing, Melbourne, Opinion, Relationship and marriage, Writing

The angst and the anger

One of my favourite albums of the 90s was Alanis Morrisette’s Jagged Little Pill.

Like most young women in their 20s at that time, I identified with the angst and anger in the lyrics. I turned up the volume and sang along. Here’s a snippet from You Oughta Know:

I want you to know that I'm happy for you
I want nothing but the best for you both
An older version of me
Is she perverted like 
Would she go down on you in a theatre
Does she speak eloquently
And would she have your baby
I'm sure she'd make a very excellent mother

Cos the love that you gave that we made 
Wasn't able to make it enough for you 
To be open wide. No
And every time you speak her name 
Does she know that you told me 
You'd hold me until you died
Till you died. But you're still alive 

And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me 
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me

And as a petulant, snotty, young woman, who’d been slighted by a man, this line was my favourite:

And every time I scratch my nails 
Down someone else's back I hope you feel it
Well, can you feel it?

Ah young love. Grand, wasn’t it?

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

14 thoughts on “The angst and the anger”

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