The Nighttime Song

Something gentle for dark times.

Hey folks and friends,

It's been... a time lately, hasn't it?

(Don't you hate that? Don't you hate that we're back to opening our emails with phrases like, "in these unprecedented times"? I know I do.)

At yesterday's inauguration, an idiot criminal was welcomed back to the highest seat of government as billionaire oligarchs sat in the front row nodding their approval. Then one of them got up on stage and repeatedly, enthusiastically, gave Nazi salutes (people are already trying to say he was just "giving his heart" to the audience—do not believe them). Meanwhile, we're receiving notices of horrifying executive orders and policies to come, which are purposely calculated to invoke maximum terror in trans and immigrant communities.

It's disturbing. It's horrifying. It's also expected, which somehow makes it worse. Many people have spent years shouting about how we should be trying to avoid this and yet, here we are.

It feels very, very easy to give in to despair at this moment. As someone who has a natural talent for depression (thanks brain!), I will readily admit that my feelings of hopelessness, anxiety, and distress are always waiting to step into the driver's seat and pilot my body around like a demoralized mech suit.

Get in the robot, Shinji.

But this time around, I don't want to give this administration that power. I don't want to spend days glued to my phone, reading take after take about every horrible detail of what they're doing to make people's lives worse. Honestly, I'm sick and tired of living in a reactive state all the time. I don't want to hand my emotional wellbeing over to a bunch of assholes. I'm not going to make their "job" easier by being afraid all the time. As the queer writers Tom & Lorenzo posted on BlueSky after the election:

I won't live in denial, but this time around, I also won't live in rage and fear. You cannot let the actions of corrupt and powerful men steal your joy and cloud your mind with despair. There have always been and always will be corrupt and powerful men. Secure your air masks. Life your life. Fight.

--Tom & Lorenzo‬ ‪@tomandlorenzo.bsky.social

When it looked like TikTok was going to be banned (which, let's not even get into that whole situation), I decided to post a song that I wrote back in the summer of 2020. At the time, the world and my life felt incredibly chaotic. I had just left NYC, my home of almost ten years, and moved back in with my parents. Everything felt upside-down and I was too wrapped up in staying informed to really give myself the chance to think about what my next steps were. Instead, I was looking out of my bedroom window at night, listening to foxes screaming in the nearby woods (fyi: not a relaxing sound!), and thinking about how I wanted gentleness.

The Nighttime Song:​
​Black our shadows, black the sky
Sweet the dark embrace of night
Nightingales will coo and sigh and
Softly sing to you and I

Willows weep and foxes cry
Wishing for the days gone by
Owls, wondering, ask us why
We'd ever leave here, you and I

Ivy decked with fireflies
Tendrils creeping soft and shy
Listen to this lullaby
Let's rest together, you and I

When I was writing this, I pictured people who cared about each other, lying together on a dark summer night. As their senses adjust, they're able to take in more and more of the life of the forest around them. A little bird call here, a rustling leaf there. And as this blanket of tranquility wraps around them, they hold each other close and feel safe and happy.

I don't often gravitate towards playing gentle music. I feel more comfortable being loud, powerful, blowing the roof off a place with songs about goblins, murders, ghosts, lovers who done me wrong, etc. Being quiet, being soft—it's a vulnerable thing for me. But I think I really needed that softness at the time I wrote this song. I feel like I need it now too.

Whatever happens, don't let corrupt men rob us of our softness, our vulnerability, our joy. We do not owe them our fear. We can turn to each other, hold each other close, and give each other the comfort and strength we need to keep going.

Much love,
Sarah

P.S. This song hasn't been "officially released" but you can listen to the demo version any time you'd like right here on my SoundCloud.