(breathe in. breathe out.)

speaking a little too candidly, but a fear i’ve had— as someone who’s struggled with recovering from (and relapsing back into) depression for a long time— is that eventually my self-destructive tendencies become too much for the people who love me and end up warping their perception of me into something uncharitable, for good. and graceland too just reads as such a hopeful response to that?

like. putting aside the fact that the song’s about julien baker for a second, there’s just such a gentleness and warmth to the lens that the persona uses to perceive the person they’re singing about. the lyrics paints a picture of someone who is recovering, but not fully better— they still feel directionless, they still “turn up the music so thoughts don’t intrude”, but even those fleeting moments of imagery are instilled with so much care. the persona speaks of them kindly, worries about them, hopes for their wellbeing.

then in the last verse / outro there’s just this triumphant moment of clarity (“says she knows she lived through it to get to this moment”), and witnessing this is the catalyst for the persona to announce their devotion to the subject of their song— i would do anything you ask me to; i would do anything for you.

and i hope it’s like that with me too, you know? that the people who love me might have grace for me, even in my darkest moments; that they could be reminded of their love on my brightest days, their conviction that there is something worth staying for. i will do anything; whatever she wants. i hope people are looking at me that way. i hope people will have the patience to continue to tell me that they will stay, over and over, until i believe it.

it’s comforting to hear the message of this song, i think. to know that somewhere out there, it’s true for someone, so it could be true for me. maybe that’s why i keep coming back to graceland too.