hi! i’m the hozier anon :] earlier this week, especially yesterday i’ve been listening to his discography a lot and had the unreal unearth: unending on repeat and all i could think of is you, all of his lyrics on that song just scream eli to me.
every song, every lyric, every emotion, and enunciation just kept reminding me of you! & if you told me you were hozier himself or vice versa, id believe you both. cause wow the way he describes such feelings and such details and things no one really think that deeply of, again, reminds me of you and your beautifully unfiltered and unsoftened words that just cracks me open in a way ive never felt before and i old it
it’s the first time i’m listening to it like that now all i can think of while playing that album, hozier in general, is you and i couldn’t have it any other way.
oh this is so tender and unreal to read :( hi hozier anon. thank you for telling me this, genuinely. the thought of you looping unreal unearth: unending and having it braid itself around my name like that—like the album became a little private conduit between your room and mine—makes my chest ache in the softest way.
and i get exactly what you mean about him, too. hozier writes like somebody who refuses to dilute feeling into something socially convenient. he doesn’t just “say” emotion, he anatomizes it turns it over until you can see the grain, the bruising, the sanctity, the dirt under the fingernails. there’s a kind of liturgical precision to the way he names desire and grief, like language is a ritual tool and not just decoration. so to be associated with that with that level of attention, that unsoftened honesty, that willingness to let beauty stay a little feral feels like being handed a compliment i don’t even have the right vocabulary to hold without dropping it.
“if you told me you were hozier himself” is killing me (ughh :(( !!!) but it also means the world because what you’re really saying is: you feel seen by the way i’m willing to look at things. not just the pretty parts, but the parts people rush past, the parts they don’t want to name too clearly. and i’m so grateful my words do that for you crack you open, like recognition, like something inside you finally has room to breathe.
also, i love that now when you play him, you think of me. that’s such an intimate kind of imprint. like i’ve been filed into your listening habits as a little ghost note, a private annotation in the margins of the album. i don’t take that lightly at all. thank you for letting me live there with you.
