Fruit Flies in the Kitchen

…a Letter to YVYNYL

Miya Folick knows that you have dirty underwear because, shit, we all have it. No one is perfect. It feels connected us to more of the universe when we start to remember what lovely flawed human beings we all are. We puke from time to time. We lie from time to time. We make lots and lots of mistakes. These are her ruminations she feels when she’s writing music. Let’s be honest, no one is perfect. Listen to her songs with that reminder.


Dear Mark,

I can’t remember writing this song, so there is no story to tell about it. I probably wrote it in LA. Probably in my apartment. Probably at night. The encounter described in the lyrics may reference a specific incident, but it’s a feeling that I carry often. I’m a friendly person but having friends terrifies me. I love it and hate it. The intimacy of it all is overwhelming. I don’t think I’m alone in this regard. And, I also don’t really think there’s anything wrong with feeling this way. I’d rather have an emotional rollercoaster of a friendship than a surface level one. But, sometimes I feel like my fear keeps me from being a good friend. And, I think it’s important to be a good friend.


A few months ago, I had some people over and one of them drank too much and was sleep-puking from the couch onto the floor. I watched as another friend, without hesitation, brought her a cold towel and a bowl. I watched her pick up the sick friend’s head and gently, but forcefully, pull it off the couch and over the bowl. She said all the things I would have liked her to be saying to me if I were in that situation. I was watching her thinking, “She is the queen of friendship!! I am in awe of this woman!”

We make it so embarrassing to be a human in our culture. Having body odor, having flab, having nervous tics, having hang-ups, having inconsistencies — we either have to hide them or make them into a self-deprecating joke or we have to turn it around and make them a glaring “fuck you”. To me, being friends with someone means showing them those embarrassments without the qualifiers. Just good pure, straight up scum, failure, dirty period underwear in your car. With friends you don’t put on the “My fruit fly infestation in my kitchen is so endearing because my non-domesticity makes me cute” act. You say, “Guys, there are fruit flies in my kitchen and I can’t get them out. It’s making me lose all faith in myself. Please help.”

Learning to love is listening to music. Sometimes I’m bad at loving like sometimes I’m bad at listening to music. I’m picking it apart, trying to understand why it works or doesn’t work — not just letting it happen like I should be. I saw Ty Segall at Burgerama a couple weeks ago. I lost my mind. Because he goes crazy and allows everyone else to do the same. And the guitar just tore through me. I felt in love with everything, and I thought I was going to explode. That to me is friendship. Totally overwhelming.

But, I probably shouldn’t say what kind of friendship is right and which is wrong. I don’t know anything. Everything is good and everything is bad. Everything is cool and nothing is cool. Hair is all different colors and decades are happening all at once. People are existing on all different platforms! We can all be internet friends and you’ll never have to see my kitchen or contend with my period underwear!

Miya


To listen to more, to read more, to live life more, to be more…

Please feel free to check out more Letters to YVYNYL, an ongoing series of personal notes about life, love and the magical power of music.

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