Youth, Clementine

Sarah Jaffe’s ‘Clementine’ is the indecisiveness of youth, the constant wondering was all of that time wasted?, the feeling of indifference.

It’s how we all were and how we all are. We like to change our minds. We like to have something new, to want something new. Then we change our minds again. And after all of it, we don’t know where to go.

“Fifty states

Fifty lines

Fifty crying all the time's

Fifty boys

Fifty lies

Fifty ‘I'm gonna change my minds’’

I changed my mind

I changed my mind

Now I feel indifferent…”

I’ve changed my mind so many times. I have wanted to move cities, do something different, and be someone new. I have wanted different people to love and different people to love me. One city to the next, one ambition to the next, one person to the next… Nothing ever feels right, nothing ever feels permanent. I have gone back and forth between so many aspects of my life in order to somehow feel different. Ironically, in the end, I’m always feeling completely and honestly indifferent. 

“All that time, wasted

I wish I was a little more delicate

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my name was Clementine…"

After all of those times I changed my mind and failed, after all of those times I fell in love and got broken, after all of those times… It all feels wasted. I twisted and turned, pushed and pulled, just to get somewhere. How did I end up nowhere? I feel like I am nowhere. I wish I wasn’t afraid to feel this way, but I am. Sometimes I wish I was a little more delicate.

“We were young

We were young

We were young we didn't care

Is it gone?

Is it gone?

Oh it's floating in the air

I changed my mind

I changed my mind

Now I feel indifferent…”

Was all of that time wasted? I was young, I am young. I was learning, I am learning. Maybe it wasn’t wasted, but where did it go? It feels as if it’s just floating in the air. It happened… but did it mean anything?

“Oh all that time, wasted

I wish I was a little more delicate

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my

I wish my name was Clementine…”

I think everyone wants to be Clementine. Rare, delicate, loved. We all make mistakes. We all grow up. We all go through things. Sometimes it feels like we shouldn’t have, like our time was wasted. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe one day, after all of our growing up is over, after all of our worry and fret is complete, we will be more like Clementine— rare, delicate loved— just like we always wanted. 

Vivian Chambers