Self-definition for Self-burned Spies
Season of the Witch - Lou Rawls
Watching him watch her becomes a small game, another exercise to keep her hand in.
When I look over my shoulder What do you think I see Some other cat looking over His shoulder right at me And it's strange, surely strange
A Better Version of Me - Fiona Apple
She runs through her own repetitions, crafting identities, job applications, a door-to-door in-home survey of all the humans she could have been and still could be.
I don't want a home, I'd ruin that Home is where my habits have a habitat
Ice Age - How to Destroy Angels
It rocked her back, because she was never really a ballerina but she had trained hard, had risen up on her toes until they broke and bled.
Sometimes, I still believe who I pretend to be Sometimes, the little thing's exactly how it seems
Red Right Ankle - The Decemberists
He sits on the floor in front of her, still careful not to loom, as if she could have gotten anywhere if she were susceptible to looming.
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees Did it cruel, did it tenderly Some had crawled their way into your heart To rend your ventricles apart This is the story of the boys who loved you This is the story of your red right ankle.
Rise Up With Fists - Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins
He has alluded to Triggers and the Things That Help to others before, fending off questions, providing just enough information, but he’s never laid the whole eclectic list out for anyone before…
Like when you wake up behind the bar Trying to remember where you are Having crushed all the pretty things There but for the grace of God go I
I Wish I Knew - Nina Simone
Can it really be called choice when all your options are bad, or when the only thing on the table is a chance of survival?
I wish I could give All I'm longin' to give I wish I could live Like I'm longin' to live
Doll Parts - Hole
Seeing Natasha turn herself off so effortlessly, become so completely someone she’s fabricated–perhaps on the walk over–that it seems there’s no fourth wall to even break…it gives him a sense of just how hard she’s been working to stay present in herself with him.
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake And someday, you will ache like I ache
True, Part III - Concrete Blonde
Natasha sinks down onto her knees, a supplicant on the edge of the expensive handwoven carpet,and looks up into the woman’s eyes. “I know who I am,” she turns Madame’s hand and presses a kiss of fealty, “and where I belong.”
And I will leave this life And I will know I've done the very best I can And I will leave behind Strain and pain And take the blame for who I am
Me, I’m Not - Nine Inch Nails
Natasha is awash in hotel rooms and train stations, her hands full of steering wheels and silk ties and the familiar Hogue grip of her Glock, the meaty scent of blood and the smoky vapor of bourbon…
I can swallow it down Keep it all inside I define myself By how well I hide I feel it coming apart Well, at least I tried I can win this war By knowing not to fight
Fortunate Son - Catey Shaw
“I build more than I break.” Natasha looks up into her eyes, willing her to understand, “I renovate.”
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no