I don’t like my language watered down, I don’t like my edges rounded off.
Taken out of context I must seem so strange.
I’m searching, as we all are, for ways to feel good about myself. Certainly, looking in the mirror doesn’t do it!
Patriarchy is like the elephant in the room that we don’t talk about, but how could it not affect the planet radically when it’s the superstructure of human society.
My songs are just little letters to me.
It’s great being your own boss, but then, you know, you make your own mistakes, you know, and you own them. You know, so it’s empowering, and it’s also humbling along the way.
All of youth culture is packaged and sold back to us at this furious rate these days. I think it’s part and parcel to this corporate encroachment on our lives in general.
I’ve been collecting some more high-end guitars. I have an old Martin D28 from the ’60s, a beautiful, classic Martin that I know I played on ‘Mariachi.’
I am a work in progress Dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding Offering me intricate patterns of questions Rhythms that never come clean And strengths that you still haven’t seen.
Someone’s got to be interested in how I feel, just because I’m here and I’m real.
There isn’t much I have to say, that I wouldn’t rather just shut up and do.
If you don’t ask the right question, every answer seems wrong -.
Why do you think I write these feminist songs, to try and teach myself to respect myself. You know, it’s not because I’m a hero.
We have a complete void of progressive politics in this country right now. The will of the people goes ignored and unrealized. I’m searching for the people that can enter the political system, a strong third party. We need to consolidate.
Actually I don’t know if honesty is a strength or some kind of weakness.
I am not a pretty girl. I don’t want to be a pretty girl. No, I want to be more than a pretty girl.
In order to keep anything cultural, logical, or ideological, you have to reinvent the reality of it.
Outside sleep’s open window, between the drops of rain, history is writing a recipe book for every earthly pain.
Someday you’re going to get hungry and eat most of the words you just said.
I’m sounding out the silence, avoiding all the words.