| Mads Langer – Fact Fiction Lyrics | 1 year ago |
| @[john106703:52088] ...and maybe do the work to turn our fictional idealized self into fact? | |
| Mads Langer – Fact Fiction Lyrics | 1 year ago |
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@[john106703:52087] Follow up note yo my original post: The last thing I said was "Or, it could simply be the writer is imagining she is imagining him..." ... I've thought further along this line; and I think it fits this way: "You're still my favorite work of art" may indicate the writer realizes he is idealizing the object of his love, and then follows it with "Or I may be imperfectly formed in this contradiction" could indicate that, in this "relationship" (I thought we had a 'moment'), it may be the he is also idealizing himself ("imperfectly formed") and that he, himself, is fiction ("in this contradiction")... This interpretation of the "contradiction" is reiterated, in a converse way, in the last verse: (After the agonizing cry of coming to terms with the perhaps truth) "I fell in love with her longing" (admitting the truth...) Let's just say that she (that this idealized person...) never found out who it was (the idealized fictional version of the writer)" she never found in me (because the real writer is, in fact, flawed) We all have a mask, how far will we let it slip, or even remove it? |
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| Mads Langer – Fact Fiction Lyrics | 4 years ago |
| I think you\'ve got it quite right, but there\'s one slight additional twist:\n\n"I\'m still fact, she\'s fiction\nOr I may be imperfectly formed in this contradiction"\n\nThis seems to allow for the possibility that *she* is *also* imagining the writer in some fictional version in which the converse is also true... "she\'s fact, [that version of me] is fiction"\n\n"...Let\'s just say that she never found out\nWho it was she never found in me"\n\nIn fact, this is the state of most human relationships... the plaintive cry isn\'t just for an unrequited love, but for the "ships passing in the night" and the missed moment of connection, that could pierce through the fictions... \n\nOr, it could simply be the writer is imagining that she is imagining him... \n\nEither way, it\'s a beautiful song. | |
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