Lady Gaga and the Bad Romance
Oh Lady Gaga… your songs are the comment to my life some days. Well really, my life is beyond boring and drab so I am probably being quite overdramatic with that first statement but what the hell… let’s live a little.
I’m probably a freak. I’m in my mid-forties and I adore Lady Gaga. She is weird, she is wild, she is fierce. She struts, she falls, she struts some more. She’s crude, she’s lewd, she sings to my soul. My dance soul anyways. To my friends and acquaintances, I would probably never admit how much I enjoy her. But every time a Lady Gaga song comes on, I am dancing inside. If I’m humming, then it’s probably a Lady Gaga tune.
So what does Lady Gaga say to you? Is it pretty much sex, sex, and more sex? Is it a comment on life, love, fashion? I would definitely be the last person who could offer an interpretation of her lyrics. I would be so far off the mark, I could run away, come back, run away again, and never come back and I still wouldn’t be close. So, my blatherings here are just that… blatherings. (They don’t count as a rant or rave as they are gone into some crazy universe.)
Anyways… Bad Romance. Ha! The title says it all right? I have had so many bad romances in my life I think it would be best if I don’t reminisce. I have no idea what she means for a bad romance. For me, it’s just that – I have a romance going (well, romance is probably a loose description at best) and it is BAD for me. It consumes me – my time, my thoughts, my soul. This evil flirts in and out of my consciousness, not accessible everyday, but when he is, it’s breathtaking. I can feel the knot form in my stomach when he is here. It has an element of danger to it. He brings out the bdsm side of me… too easily. He makes me need him. He makes me want revenge… on what I have no freaking clue but it sounds delicious. I want every part of him and I want him to want every part of me. Will it be discovered? This fantasy world I have…. drives me nuts.
I want your drama… I want your love… I want your leather-studded kiss… I want your vertical stick… I want your revenge…
On to… Poker Face. Again, I have no idea really what she is saying with this song. I really take things at face value – I figure she is just saying I’m gonna get him going and get him good but he really won’t know what hit him. See… so far away I’m sure that I couldn’t have got it right. In any case, I have to say in my younger days, the thrill of the chase was the best thing. If I could wrap a guy around one of my fingers, I loved it. I loved it when a guy loved me. It was even better if he wasn’t a jerk! But, as I age, I get to the part where the Russian Roulette is attractive. Goes right into that fantasy world I have… will it be discovered? I hope not. And continues into my bdsm thoughts… baby “when it’s love if it ain’t rough it isn’t fun.” What can I say? Tie me up baby… I’ve been a bad girl.
Love Game? No description needed. Me and him and that’s all that’s needed.
Oh geez… I’ve gone right onto the crazy side and talking like a lovesick teenager. Oops! Probably just insulted a few teenagers there.
So, what happens if and/or when you take fantasy to reality? Do things get horribly mixed up? Does it suck or end up better than you could have imagined? Do you get hurt? Do other people get hurt? Or do you feel guilt forever after? Are you a bad person if you don’t feel guilty? Do you end up on Jerry Springer? Or do you get all paranoid about the other person in the fantasy and totally screw up your mind?
Damn I need new meds……
