Contradictory Evidence

Jaclynn Herterick

alternative pop, trip-hop, dark electro-pop

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V6-MINI

[Spoken Intro]

I used to call it performing stability.

Like maybe if I held everything correctly,
nobody would notice
how much I was carrying.

Funny thing is—

I’m not sure I was pretending.

Maybe I’m just contradictory evidence.

[Verse 1]

My mind is so full that sometimes it goes blank,
forty-seven tabs and I still lose the page.
I talk to myself just to hear what I think,
make sense of the mess while I’m standing in it.

I need people.
I need everyone to leave me alone.

I want all the answers.
I’m learning to live without knowing.

I want a plan,
then resent it for telling me where to go.

I can find meaning in anything—
a rainbow, a number,
a sentence that finds me at exactly the wrong right time.

Call it pattern recognition.
Call it delusion.

Either way,
I made something out of it.

[Pre-Chorus]

I can be grateful and pissed off.
Hopeful and fucking tired.
Scared of what comes next
and still curious enough to see it.

Maybe two things can be true.

Maybe ten can.

[Chorus]

I’m still performing stability,
just not the way I used to.

Now the seams are part of the outfit,
the cracks made it into the design.

I can laugh while it hurts.
I can hurt and still have fun.
I can need a break
and still want everything.

I’m not choosing between
the chaos and the calm.

Apparently,
I’m both.

[Verse 2]

I’m a mother while I’m still somebody’s daughter,
a wife who still needs somewhere inside herself to belong.

I’m tired enough to disappear for a minute
and ambitious enough to build an empire before breakfast.

I want peace,
but apparently my brain likes fireworks.

Give me silence
and eventually I’ll fill it with a theory,
a lyric,
a business,
a question,
or something completely unnecessary
that suddenly feels important.

I collect broken pieces like raw material.

Not because everything happens for a reason—

sometimes shit just happens.

But if it lands in my hands,
I’m probably going to make something from it.

[Bridge]

That might be the alchemy.

Not turning pain into pretty things.

Not pretending the fire didn’t burn.

Just realizing
I can hold ashes in one hand
and glitter in the other
and neither one cancels the other out.

I don’t need every answer
to know what I know.

I don’t need to feel fearless
to keep moving.

I don’t need to be okay
every second
to have an okay life.

And I don’t have to explain every contradiction
just because somebody else needs me
to make sense.

[Final Chorus]

So yeah—

I’m still performing stability.

But maybe stability was never standing perfectly still.

Maybe it’s knowing how to move
when the ground does.

Knowing when to fight,
when to laugh,
when to say fuck it,
when to go home.

I’ve fallen before.

I know something about getting up.

Not gracefully.
Not inspirationally.

Usually distracted,
slightly inappropriate,
probably documenting it—

but up.

[Outro]

I need to breathe.
I need my peace.

I still have entirely unreasonable aspirations.

I still don’t know what happens next.

Contradictory?

Absolutely.

Unstable?

Depends who’s asking.

But I’m here.

And somehow,
I keep making a life
out of all of it.

3114/7500

[Spoken Intro] I used to call it performing stability. Like maybe if I held everything correctly, nobody would notice how much I was carrying. Funny thing is— I’m not sure I was pretending. Maybe I’m just contradictory evidence. [Verse 1] My mind is so full that sometimes it goes blank, forty-seven tabs and I still lose the page. I talk to myself just to hear what I think, make sense of the mess while I’m standing in it. I need people. I need everyone to leave me alone. I want all the answers. I’m learning to live without knowing. I want a plan, then resent it for telling me where to go. I can find meaning in anything— a rainbow, a number, a sentence that finds me at exactly the wrong right time. Call it pattern recognition. Call it delusion. Either way, I made something out of it. [Pre-Chorus] I can be grateful and pissed off. Hopeful and fucking tired. Scared of what comes next and still curious enough to see it. Maybe two things can be true. Maybe ten can. [Chorus] I’m still performing stability, just not the way I used to. Now the seams are part of the outfit, the cracks made it into the design. I can laugh while it hurts. I can hurt and still have fun. I can need a break and still want everything. I’m not choosing between the chaos and the calm. Apparently, I’m both. [Verse 2] I’m a mother while I’m still somebody’s daughter, a wife who still needs somewhere inside herself to belong. I’m tired enough to disappear for a minute and ambitious enough to build an empire before breakfast. I want peace, but apparently my brain likes fireworks. Give me silence and eventually I’ll fill it with a theory, a lyric, a business, a question, or something completely unnecessary that suddenly feels important. I collect broken pieces like raw material. Not because everything happens for a reason— sometimes shit just happens. But if it lands in my hands, I’m probably going to make something from it. [Bridge] That might be the alchemy. Not turning pain into pretty things. Not pretending the fire didn’t burn. Just realizing I can hold ashes in one hand and glitter in the other and neither one cancels the other out. I don’t need every answer to know what I know. I don’t need to feel fearless to keep moving. I don’t need to be okay every second to have an okay life. And I don’t have to explain every contradiction just because somebody else needs me to make sense. [Final Chorus] So yeah— I’m still performing stability. But maybe stability was never standing perfectly still. Maybe it’s knowing how to move when the ground does. Knowing when to fight, when to laugh, when to say fuck it, when to go home. I’ve fallen before. I know something about getting up. Not gracefully. Not inspirationally. Usually distracted, slightly inappropriate, probably documenting it— but up. [Outro] I need to breathe. I need my peace. I still have entirely unreasonable aspirations. I still don’t know what happens next. Contradictory? Absolutely. Unstable? Depends who’s asking. But I’m here. And somehow, I keep making a life out of all of it.

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