I want someone to tell me

what to wear every morning.

I want someone to tell me what to eat,

what to like, what to hate,

what to rage about,

what to listen to, what band to like,

what to buy tickets for,

what to joke about,

what not to joke about.

I want someone to tell me

what to believe in,

who to vote for,

and who to love,

and how to tell them.

I just think I want someone to tell me

how to live my life, Father,

because so far I think

I’ve been getting it wrong.

And I know that’s why people want

people like you in their lives.

Because you just tell them how to do it.

You just tell them what to do,

and what they’ll get

out of the end of it.

Even though I don’t believe

your bullshit, and I know that

scientifically nothing I do makes

any difference in the end anyway,

I’m still scared.

Why am I still scared?

So just tell me what to do.

Just fucking tell me what to do, Father!

*Fleabag, s02e04

Mixtapes for city walks and space travels

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