By Eda Gunaydin, Out Of School
I adore Mitski. I listened to her song, Working for the Knife, for seven hours straight one day, the day after I turned in the first draft of my book, while lying on my back in the sun in Petersham Park. I especially appreciate her lyrics. They usually point to the fact that time always keeps going – there’s always a day after this one, and we keep getting older, even if we think that we’re done growing up. Life, in other words, keeps going, and going, past even the moments we think will never come – those we wouldn’t even allow ourselves to contemplate, like divorce or the death of a loved one. Time demands that we keep going, requiring us to constantly reinvent and rebuild ourselves to meet its passing. Mitski taught me that the thing about time is this: either you move through it or it moves through you.