Being Big Never Felt So Little
I’ve never ever felt love like I’ve seen in all the movies
I’ve never ever met Love like the first scene on T.V.
I’ve never ever dwelt on “liking” ‘cause it’s never been me,
But lately, this solitude-this emptiness-it leads me.
Leads me to believe I’m missing out
Leads me to conceive thoughts I’d never sough
Pride makes me deceive the very few around
That I am all right by myself.
But the truth is I feel a little lonelier than usual,
A little phony underneath,
A little homelier near mirrors
And under scrutiny.
I kind of just feel little.
I’ve never ever hesitated when I need to lie
About my feelings, whether agitated or so high I may fly,
But I sat down at my keyboard to write about that foreign 愛1,
And I drew a blank, couldn’t even fake it, no matter how hard I tried;
Which leads me to explore it in a brown study:
Defined the word, listed neither as a verb nor a noun.
This piqued me into formulating an ever-weakening theory that turned
Out to be nothing more than meaningless conjecture.
And the truth is I feel a little lonelier than usual,
A little dimwitted in mind,
A little homelier near mirrors
Placed under bright light.
I kind of just feel little inside.
It’s ironic ‘cause I never really hide,
Or at least that’s what I’d always had in my mind.
But the more I think, the more I realize there’s no one here who really knows me
The more I think, the more I theorize there’s no one I’ve loved enough to show genuinely
The more I think, the more I idolize the love that I have never come to see
The more I write, the more I want to stop.
____________________
1 愛, pronounced like the pronoun I, is Japanese for love. (Source)
I’ve never ever met Love like the first scene on T.V.
I’ve never ever dwelt on “liking” ‘cause it’s never been me,
But lately, this solitude-this emptiness-it leads me.
Leads me to believe I’m missing out
Leads me to conceive thoughts I’d never sough
Pride makes me deceive the very few around
That I am all right by myself.
But the truth is I feel a little lonelier than usual,
A little phony underneath,
A little homelier near mirrors
And under scrutiny.
I kind of just feel little.
I’ve never ever hesitated when I need to lie
About my feelings, whether agitated or so high I may fly,
But I sat down at my keyboard to write about that foreign 愛1,
And I drew a blank, couldn’t even fake it, no matter how hard I tried;
Which leads me to explore it in a brown study:
Defined the word, listed neither as a verb nor a noun.
This piqued me into formulating an ever-weakening theory that turned
Out to be nothing more than meaningless conjecture.
And the truth is I feel a little lonelier than usual,
A little dimwitted in mind,
A little homelier near mirrors
Placed under bright light.
I kind of just feel little inside.
It’s ironic ‘cause I never really hide,
Or at least that’s what I’d always had in my mind.
But the more I think, the more I realize there’s no one here who really knows me
The more I think, the more I theorize there’s no one I’ve loved enough to show genuinely
The more I think, the more I idolize the love that I have never come to see
The more I write, the more I want to stop.
____________________
1 愛, pronounced like the pronoun I, is Japanese for love. (Source)