Jenny Hval The Practice Of Love Lyrics
The Practice Of Love by Jenny Hval
[Vivian Wang and Lasse Marhaug]
Ok. Page 2? Yeah. As I inhale, as I inhale, as I inhale and feel my lungs fill up with black breath, to exhale, what comes out is: I wanted to write to you about love. I hate love in my own language. It contains the entire word "honesty" inside it, which makes it sound religious, protestant, hierarchic, purified. The word love comes in the way of love that makes me want to say "sorry". I say sorry with black breath, black letters staining the air around me, the walls of the house, the bed, the desk. Maybe "sorry" is the closest I ever got to expressing love. In my bed, honesty is lying on top of love, sucking the blood out of it, occupying it. What's left is a little corpse. I hope I don't laugh when I read this. Remember when I started saying "of corpse"? Hahaha! Every time I wanted to agree in something... This is so funny. Remember when I started saying "of corpse" every time I wanted to agree on something? I was inserting a little slice of death with my agreeing. Whether it was coming out of my parents, coming out with my parents for a boat trip, all agreeing that a [Boat Was Killed?] Corpse will definitely be sitting inside the world for love. With the power of the [?] Um, umbilical? This is very [?] I have a thousand presenters, they are all burnt, language doesn't fit, community, affinity, togetherness, the words don't work, or they are blackened, of corpse. Somewhat about you and I. For you, I feel a closeness that I can only explain as love, the unknown, the black hole. I was going to say "chaos", but I say "the unknown" because I don't know where uncommon ideas and thoughts come from. Because I don't know where are common ideas? Do we have to say common? Um, is it ok to say, "But I say that wrong because I don't know where ideas and thoughts come from"? Yeah
[Jenny Hval and Laura Jean Englert]
Someone who thinks that she's [?] that she's the most, like, blasphemous being by some, like, just having different choices in life [?] choices you make [?] like [?] difference, and the mother and the daughter, the person that chooses who you'll be in life, and then there is something... Maybe you, when you're older, you get to this point where you, um, realise that maybe we're just like all the others, and it [?] really didn't matter whether you were different. So, I thought I was different, it's something, it's like a, it's like a teenager would say. Like, I thought I was different but I'm just like the others
Yeah, but it, a teenager always believes secretly that they are different, um, and...
Mm, they do, yeah, so, it's like, everyone always thought they were different, but as you get older...
Yes. I'm still hanging onto that a little bit, but, I, I've just done some writing about, um, this stuff, um, for a book about abortion, and, um... What, one thing that I kind of felt, um, becoming someone who's in their late 30s that doesn't have a child, it's like, I have to accept that I'm part of this human ecosystem, um, but I'm not the princess and I'm not the main character? Because I feel like maybe the main characters are the people that have kids because they literally keep the virus going. But, um, I'm like, I thought, maybe I'm the talking tree, or, like, maybe I'm the witch, or maybe I'm, I'm the, I'm a supporting character, and that's a hard thing for my ego to take, 'cause I wanna be the star of the human story, but I'm not. I'm like a, I'm the, I'm someone that is in the background in regards to survival 'cause I'm not directly supporting survival, I'm just supporting it in a very abstract way, and possibly not supporting it
Possibly not supporting it, antagonist?
I'm, I could be an antagonist but antagonists are imperative for a virus to survive because it makes it stronger
Ok. Page 2? Yeah. As I inhale, as I inhale, as I inhale and feel my lungs fill up with black breath, to exhale, what comes out is: I wanted to write to you about love. I hate love in my own language. It contains the entire word "honesty" inside it, which makes it sound religious, protestant, hierarchic, purified. The word love comes in the way of love that makes me want to say "sorry". I say sorry with black breath, black letters staining the air around me, the walls of the house, the bed, the desk. Maybe "sorry" is the closest I ever got to expressing love. In my bed, honesty is lying on top of love, sucking the blood out of it, occupying it. What's left is a little corpse. I hope I don't laugh when I read this. Remember when I started saying "of corpse"? Hahaha! Every time I wanted to agree in something... This is so funny. Remember when I started saying "of corpse" every time I wanted to agree on something? I was inserting a little slice of death with my agreeing. Whether it was coming out of my parents, coming out with my parents for a boat trip, all agreeing that a [Boat Was Killed?] Corpse will definitely be sitting inside the world for love. With the power of the [?] Um, umbilical? This is very [?] I have a thousand presenters, they are all burnt, language doesn't fit, community, affinity, togetherness, the words don't work, or they are blackened, of corpse. Somewhat about you and I. For you, I feel a closeness that I can only explain as love, the unknown, the black hole. I was going to say "chaos", but I say "the unknown" because I don't know where uncommon ideas and thoughts come from. Because I don't know where are common ideas? Do we have to say common? Um, is it ok to say, "But I say that wrong because I don't know where ideas and thoughts come from"? Yeah
[Jenny Hval and Laura Jean Englert]
Someone who thinks that she's [?] that she's the most, like, blasphemous being by some, like, just having different choices in life [?] choices you make [?] like [?] difference, and the mother and the daughter, the person that chooses who you'll be in life, and then there is something... Maybe you, when you're older, you get to this point where you, um, realise that maybe we're just like all the others, and it [?] really didn't matter whether you were different. So, I thought I was different, it's something, it's like a, it's like a teenager would say. Like, I thought I was different but I'm just like the others
Yeah, but it, a teenager always believes secretly that they are different, um, and...
Mm, they do, yeah, so, it's like, everyone always thought they were different, but as you get older...
Yes. I'm still hanging onto that a little bit, but, I, I've just done some writing about, um, this stuff, um, for a book about abortion, and, um... What, one thing that I kind of felt, um, becoming someone who's in their late 30s that doesn't have a child, it's like, I have to accept that I'm part of this human ecosystem, um, but I'm not the princess and I'm not the main character? Because I feel like maybe the main characters are the people that have kids because they literally keep the virus going. But, um, I'm like, I thought, maybe I'm the talking tree, or, like, maybe I'm the witch, or maybe I'm, I'm the, I'm a supporting character, and that's a hard thing for my ego to take, 'cause I wanna be the star of the human story, but I'm not. I'm like a, I'm the, I'm someone that is in the background in regards to survival 'cause I'm not directly supporting survival, I'm just supporting it in a very abstract way, and possibly not supporting it
Possibly not supporting it, antagonist?
I'm, I could be an antagonist but antagonists are imperative for a virus to survive because it makes it stronger