Kilroy Washere
02-16-2012, 07:46 PM
One of the many reasons I love Tool is that their songs begin as complete enigmas, and seem to reveal themselves to me in time. Lately the song that most describes me is Bottom. I believe this was written about a certain human paradigm, one of which I'm too familiar. About a month ago, I made a connection between the 'Dead inside' part of this song and a crude piece of poetry I jotted down a while back. The words "dead inside" appeared in both.
I am always scared of myself. I don't feel much of the positive spectrum of emotion like people say I should, and I hate and push back those who love me. My cruelty ignites my head with guilt that I can’t let go of, and yet every good thing I do feels like a desperate attempt to prove something still exists within me. I relate this to Dorian Grey, after he finds that his attempts towards reconciliation only twisted his portrait further. It feels like I'm dancing along the line of psychopathy; like I'm fake, dangerous, transparent, and dead inside. And ugly as shit.
Maynard so perfectly captures this mentality that perhaps he has dealt with this too. If he has, maybe he managed his escape via the means Henry Rollins suggests in the 'breakdown'. I'm typically enthralled when around others, and I love talking and hearing what they have to say, save for those few like my poor mother, whose face is like a mirror, reminding me always of how ugly I can be. But lately, I can't seem to find peace in anyone. Even those whom I did love suggest an ugly emotion that feels closer to narcissistic coveting. My desire is in fact broken because every thought brings me back to being dead inside, which makes life trivial.
I need to believe in some part of me that can be salvaged. There needs to be some way out of this. Some way to restore what has been putrefied. I can't stand the thought of envy for admiration, or hatred for humiliation, or vanity for love. I simply won't live with it.
Anyways, that’s my long interpretation of the song. Better off just listening to it.
I am always scared of myself. I don't feel much of the positive spectrum of emotion like people say I should, and I hate and push back those who love me. My cruelty ignites my head with guilt that I can’t let go of, and yet every good thing I do feels like a desperate attempt to prove something still exists within me. I relate this to Dorian Grey, after he finds that his attempts towards reconciliation only twisted his portrait further. It feels like I'm dancing along the line of psychopathy; like I'm fake, dangerous, transparent, and dead inside. And ugly as shit.
Maynard so perfectly captures this mentality that perhaps he has dealt with this too. If he has, maybe he managed his escape via the means Henry Rollins suggests in the 'breakdown'. I'm typically enthralled when around others, and I love talking and hearing what they have to say, save for those few like my poor mother, whose face is like a mirror, reminding me always of how ugly I can be. But lately, I can't seem to find peace in anyone. Even those whom I did love suggest an ugly emotion that feels closer to narcissistic coveting. My desire is in fact broken because every thought brings me back to being dead inside, which makes life trivial.
I need to believe in some part of me that can be salvaged. There needs to be some way out of this. Some way to restore what has been putrefied. I can't stand the thought of envy for admiration, or hatred for humiliation, or vanity for love. I simply won't live with it.
Anyways, that’s my long interpretation of the song. Better off just listening to it.