It Begins Again

The march lingers on…

It’s in my head now
It’s in my mind now
It’s in my face now
It’s in my brain now

City of mutants darken the night
Evil illusion, guided by light

The friends you thought, they never were
Egos and icons, they just don’t care
You hope to die quiet, laying in bed
It’s better than pointing a gun to your head

It’s in my head now
It’s in my mind now
It’s in my face now
It’s in my brain now

Fools

See these fools that surround us
Make their rules that define us
Seeing reds that confound us
Make your rules

The gates we see are never open
For you and I, they create purpose
A sense of worth, but lost in Heaven
Our only hope

They’re the architects of sight
Building walls to block our light
Only in dreams we’ll make it right
Only in dreams will we take flight

You’ll be there at my end
Like my only friend
You know that it’s true
It will only be you

You’ll be there at my end
Like my only friend
You know that it’s true
It can only be you

My Heart Has a Wish That You Would Not Go

I’m dead in the water
A silhouette turning over
I’ll wait for you here

And I keep forgetting
where I meant to be
All so far
yet
all so near

So tell me
Just what are these gifts that you bring?
This life is amazing
but the colors keep changing

And I’m sure
We shouldn’t be wasting away
My rotting history
Will find its place
So don’t go
so cold
So don’t go
so cold

I’ll not be afraid
It’s taken this long
to come back again

And yet, I might suffer
the fate of another
Of shit and the bones
and all things considered

I walked with my hands held out
I walked with my hands held out
to
you
and
all
that’s
good

And I’m sure
we shouldn’t be wasting away
And I’m sure
we shouldn’t be wasting away
And I’m sure
we shouldn’t be wasting away
And I’m sure
we shouldn’t be wasting away

Living
back
words
I’m
living
back
words
I’m
living change
back change
words change
I’m change
living change
back change
words change
I’m change
living change
back change
words change
I’m change
living change
back change
words change

I’m listening like my father
told me how to

I’m burning like my brother
always knew I would

I am still further…

One thing I fear is what I might lose

Kiss on the mouth to remind me of you

Take it in turns to decide where to go

I’m looking for something that God only knows

And in my arms, on the way down

Are you still calling me? And how do I hear?

I’ve got a head full of draught

Take me down
Six underground
The ground beneath your feet

Archival Footage

The morning sun swept to give me pause,
with light beaming into every pore.
Under the depth and weight of pureness bronzed,
she tried to steal my open eyes,
she tried to take my only growth;
to her, it was a darkened sore.
To her, I was a changing tide,
and she wanted me to flow for her.

I have slept beneath the bones of life,
under miles of everything rotten and blind,
so that I could know the reach of sight.
I lay here so I would know myself,
even though I've grown morose and deaf.
It is mine as it is oceanic breath,
But I would not change that for the acceptance of morning.

 

--

 

If you come to know the rupture
and withdraw into the sculpture,
the form of held enclosure,
you can see what I hold dear.
It's wordless and uncounted,
belittled and discounted.
The faceless, voiceless fountain,
it gives strength and definition
to neurosis, to ignition.
And in this deepening abstraction
is where I watch the endless crashing
and find freedom and salvation.

Release through retention;
contraction and expansion;
I suffer every tension,
am crushed beneath dissection.
What has begun as distention,
agony and dementia,
brings whole the separation.
I drink from this dissension
to wring out my ascension.

 

--

 

As thoughts start seething
And blood mixes in with what I'm feeling,
Like a tangled web of tears and sweat,
Of prospects sold to be unmet,
I claw away the mildew stains
To froth and foam spherical regret,
While you forget the words you've said,
They fuel the fields inside my head.

With rusted blades, scorned dull and bland,
The shit I've grown inside my soul is just too bare to shove away.
I can't even catch a single breath,
Nor find myself for one last stand.

This is the well, dug deep into bone:
No water, no stone; I've been sweating, feeling windblown.
The brown of autumn's face,
Inked darkly.

 

--

 

I can't sleep.  When did this hill become so steep?  I just want to lay my head down and be greeted by some peace.  When I picture your face etched in my mind like flames, all my thoughts become whitewash, and I feel like I'm insane.  I love you, even though you're hell, a concrete swell in an ocean of muffled bells.  It sounds like pain and tears and grime.  And it's all mine.  I think about you all the time... I still think about you all the time.

--

 

Low place like home

Underneath and underground…

I still feel the pangs of needs that bring me back to my adolescence.  It’s ridiculous.

I’d just like to turn my brain off for a few months and not worry about it now.  But, I guess that’s what I said a few months ago; here I am.

It’s so silly to feel the kinds of basic yearnings that are so aesthetically human.  I hate the kind of people that are always looking to take advantage of the opposite sex, or to fill their own loneliness with physical intimacy.  And when I yearn for those kinds of things, I dismiss it.  I think about where it would end up, and the unsatisfying tinge that paints sex when it’s with someone you don’t love absolutely.

I think about the frailty of human interaction, and just how much is based on your own reflection in the first place.  I don’t meet the kind of people who are genuinely interested in me or my thoughts.  I’m just a sounding board, most of the time.  A brick wall.

But I don’t really care about that in the same way that a self-conscious person would.  I just care about the idea of actually meeting that other kind of people.  It has to happen someday.

I didn’t have it with people I’ve known my whole life, and I haven’t found it in the myriad forms of succubus that have clawed at my heart.  Half of it is because I’ve never met anyone I wanted to share that with, and the other half is that nobody really tried, anyway.

But, in a few days or a week or two weeks, I’ll be back in a manic phase and schizoid and it won’t matter for a month or two.  That’s what’s so goddamned silly about it.  It becomes easier to repress yourself when you’re harder to suppress.

The part of me that just wants to get laid is ugly, because it goes against what I’ve learned and my own principles.  The part of me that regrets the past is ugly because I still mourn the death of someone that never gave a shit about me, and sank into self-loathing bitterness.  I mourn a lot of things, and none of them really matter at all, because they either happened in what seems like a past life, or they were pointless and stupid in the first place.

The man in me wants to feel attractive to the kind of women I feel attracted toward, even if I blow them off or act strangely.  I at least want the satisfaction of feeling like I’m not just a bitter, mentally wrecked loser.

Being around such banal people has made me realize just how extraordinary my upbringing was.  Or, maybe it was just my own intelligence that got me through it.  I’ve seen the dark mouth of Hell, and I’ve lived in a black hole, and I’ve been to places that cause me to laugh inside every time I hear someone talking about their “dark shit”.  They don’t know what real, mind-shattering psychoses are, and they don’t know what real trauma is.

I attribute too much to the importance I place on past memories.  But, I’m not the kind of person that lets go just because it’s not important anymore.  My past will always be important to me; so I tell myself.

The more I live through it, the more I realize that I would hate myself if I did lower to that bottom standard.  If I became another douchey guy; if I manipulated people in such a condescending way, as if they were objects to me; if I eternally sought to raise myself above others so that they knew;  If I became the kind of person I hated, just for bland, bleak fulfillment; How could I really live with myself after that?

Sometimes I feel like I have every single moment of my life stored in my head.  Then I think about people like Nietzsche, Staley, Turing.  They all died in abject misery.  So maybe that’s a kind of badge of honor I can hope for.

In the very center of my soul, I have always been the kind of person to hammer myself down into absurd and selfish things.  I pound and break and stomp until there’s less than nothing left.  I’ve carved my opinions into the foreheads of the kind of people that were too stupid to realize I was better than them.  Part of that is never giving up on its weight, never putting it aside just to be a sheep long enough to sate their thirst of the animalistic.

You’re pissing off the world now…

Tension in the ranks is what I see
Trickle through the planks into the sea water
And oh, well, it was too bad to see you drown

Tension in the ranks is where it ends
Captured by the ones who killed my friends
If you should break them to release me
Well I’m dead…

Comfortable Liar

Every day, I feel a little more unfulfilled by what I’ve spent my time doing:  Working, eating, sleeping.

I think it’s just another cycle in the life of an un-medicated manic depressive, but it’s hard to rationalize those kinds of things away, because they are a part of what you feel about everything that you come into contact with.  I’d like to have that kind of confidence I used to wear on my sleeve, and flirt with girls, and forcefully make people uncomfortable when I realize they’re idiotic… But something about living here makes me adopt my persona.  Something about working at a job I loathe makes me adopt my persona.

It feels like it’s what I have to do to get through this part of my life.  I need to turn my brain off for as long as possible, let time warp around me until it’s a year later and I have money saved.  But, I won’t have nearly enough money saved to justify a year’s worth of shitty, unrelenting, unappreciated work at nine dollars per hour.  I never thought I would work for that amount ever again in my life.

But, really, I’m not the kind of person I used to be.  I have an ugly soul, and ugly personality, and an ugly heart.  I am nothing more than a borderline, living and breathing and always distancing myself away from a breaking point.  So, I will never really get the satisfaction of being myself in this situation, unless I do reach a point, and start to break apart and lash out against such a shitty, depressing landscape.

My favorite feel is nearing the end
I feel a timebomb ticking closer to my house
And you’re free to go if you care
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart

My favorite feel is nearing the end
My favorite feel is nearing the end
My favorite feel is nearing the end
My favorite feel is nearing the end
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart
Closer to the way I felt before you in my heart

Smogharp

“And in the spider’s belly: Bones of the butterfly.”

Flight breaks, the outer limits fade
And inner lights on thin ice slowing, undone
Beyond my eyes, like deadly infants with limbs
The frequency’s scream begins

I’d like to fall, but the infant’s mind so blind, so dimmed, forever
And mine was gone, smelling bleak, this dies
You ain’t god until hush
Say it mother, what if, hey, something’s not quite right here, may
Feed the anger, feel what made the midnight sunshine go away
Pain, pain, go away, see the game to see the day
And what was once a monster stays
and sees that nothing lasts forever…

Four days fit five days, six ways to Sunday
What if the world is shit?

One year splits two hairs, three-inching war dicks
Where is the love in it?

February

Sister’s gone,
a crown of red
You said I missed;
a mistake
In the dark,
I thought her you,
and shot

I hear your voice
calling me
from a calendar
anniversary

Wake up, empty head
Ringing bells
You said you heard her voice here
An eastern wind
on branches bare
No moon, no stars, no passing time

And all you ever wanted was my embrace
Rather you stay inside your hiding place

I hear your voice
calling me
from a calendar
anniversary
It’s February
You’re two years gone
and I am lost
I am lost
It’s February
I can feel your hand
and here I come
Here I come

You cannot hide yourself
I’m everywhere

Oh, how I long for the day when people stop talking to me like I’m a teenager and of below-average intelligence.

Sunlit and Ascending

Common places
Haunted past
With all the woods now gone,
I knew it wouldn’t last

All those faces
are question marks
Up and down the street
Looking down the block

Common places
Haunted rooms
Wandering inside
Contemplating doom
It marks our faces
when we don’t smile
Don’t get me out of bed
I want to lay here awhile

So come another day
Today, I just can’t
The faces are out there
This is your last chance

Serve the Servants

I tried hard to have a father,
but instead I had a dad.

(sic)

Being sick

Fucking sucks

Being sick around stupid people

Sucks more

Celestial

Collapse the veins
Crush the heart
Snap the tendons
Dissolve the bones
Flood the brain
Burn the skin
Pierce the lungs
Collapse the body

Stars now beneath our feet
We’ve known the terror
and still not stopped

Swarm down and forgive me
Rain down and forgive us

--

We became parts of a greater whole
The black hole sees a light

--

Hive been fed
Fill my soul
One way in
Fill my soul
Fill my soul

I been high
Still can’t see
Devastated
Come find

Pleasuring arm
Tempted to bleed
Hollowing
Dares my soul

I been high
Still can’t see
Devastated
Come find

Our inventions split their cocoons
And the whir of wings was deafening
Rain down and bring
A gentle time

If I could separate me from myself,
I’d stay away from me.

The definition of religion:
Segregation with a vision
Armageddon’s ammunition
Man, I call em like I see em

I see a cold, dark planet headed straight for the end,
like it was all just a figment of our imaginations

You try to hold me tight through that long, dark night
And you try to hold me down
But, now I’m ready to fight

I’m dead right
Never lie down for them
Never lie down for them
No, I’ll never lie down for them

“That bird’s right on the fucking beat”

You got a bad old habit

of making people sad

You got a bad old habit

of making people dead

You thought you were cool

I don’t really understand it

Did you think you were cool?

I don’t really understand it

 

So cool…

Slave to Evil

there was a time I thought mind would force the body – there was a time I thought mind would force the soul – but then I went evil – but then I went mad – but then I went evil – but then I went mad – but then I went evil – but then I went mad – but then I went evil – but then I went mad - evil is ruling over my existence – evil is ruling over my existence

there was a time I thought mind would force the body – there was a time I thought mind would force the soul – but then I went evil – but then I went mad – but then I went evil – but then I went mad – but then I went mad – but then I went mad – but then I went mad – but then I went mad

evil is ruling over my existence – evil is ruling over my existence – evil is ruling over my existence – evil is ruling over my existence – evil is ruling over my existence – over my existence – over my existence

there was a time I thought mind would force the body – there was a time I thought mind would force the soul – there was a time I thought mind would force the body – there was a time I thought mind would force the soul – there was a time I thought – there was a time I thought

Time & Space

It’s weird how I always seem to spontaneously start thinking of a song in my head, and then, when listening to it, realize that it has more to do with the way I feel than I thought.

There’s something to be said for waiting
Despite the knowledge it’ll never come
In the face of doubt
Learn to go without
and within

And there’s something to be said for action
To see the consequences get played out
In the end, you find
You’ve run out of time
and space in your heart

Okay
Alright
You’re okay
But it’s not fine

And now you’re coming ‘round the corner again
And you’re leaving everything behind
Out of sight, out of mind
You’ve run out of time
and space in your heart

Okay
Alright
You’re okay
But it’s not fine

Where did you go to?
Nothing left to hold on to
Can you just close up?
Can you just give up?

Lost Control

Life
has betrayed me once again
I accept some things will never change

I let your tiny minds
magnify my agony
It’s left me with a chemical dependency
for sanity

Yes, I am falling
How much longer ‘til I hit the ground?
I can’t tell you why I’m breaking down
Do you wonder why I prefer to be alone?
Have I really lost control?

I’m coming to an end
I’ve realized what I could’ve been
I can’t sleep, so I take a breath
and hide behind my bravest mask
I admit I’ve lost control

As Long As I Die Before You, I’ll Survive

The Beyond

A deep sore dragged through ages
The sores are my own, I know
Wounds collected through a lifetime
And wisdom I pick up along the way

I received the spit from a snake
And the snare cut real deep
I was caught in her womb
Something spreading in my veins

Those walls I faced alone
I crept on bounded knees
The own will just vanished
I wept my compassion away

I wept my compassion away
With tears that flooded your heart
No river leads back to mine
I bow down in soil and whisper
And gather strength to spread the disease

--

Somewhere along the railway
A body divided in two
Somewhere between the screams
Those visions were never seen

I understood the voice
An ancient sacrifice
Buried in a wreck
To rise up in a gaze

In marches the bitter man
Fire away again and again
Hang dry curtains are down
Sink down in dumping grounds

Sirens scream in your head
When the march lingers on
Hear the echoes of the ceremonial doom
Hear the echoes of the dying

The march lingers on
The march lingers on
The march lingers on
The march lingers on

--

Through times I thought of what we created
For greater causes that brought us down to this

In elderly forms and surroundings
In the flesh of spirits incarnated
They’re here for the hate forgotten
A rearview mirror to all lost souls
A slow burn shattered the field
Pain through body
Fire-drained vein

Walk down to the watchtower
And with the right kind of eyes
See waves roll in and over
Never could you see the watermark

The ground is shaking
From all the people below
One thing I’ve learned from this is
What you reap is what you sow

Man marches through the rust and dust
The burning fields will soon be ashes
Bodies woven in smoke and skin
And clouds descend to the sea
I see the bonds that tie belief
For this I choose to sink
I see the bonds that tie belief
For this I choose to sink

Walk down to the watchtower
And with the obscure shapes
See smoke roll in and over
Never will we see the lights

…And the dead shall rise

Ever thought that when you stare at the sun,
you’re blind but you can see?

Ever wondered why when you’re in love,
it brings you down to your knees?

Ever look deep inside yourself,
and didn’t like what you found?

Ever shouted out to Jesus Christ
when there’s no one else around?

One… Two… Three… Two…

and your lips were sealed

when you broke my heart

and these cuts don’t heal

as I fall apart

now you’re in love

with another man

and it tears me up

knowing what we had

 

 

 

and my fate was sealed

when you broke my heart

and these cuts weren’t healed

as I fell apart

 

 

 

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

don’t tell me you don’t feel it

Habilis

Something about being on the bottom of society makes people feel so inadequate that their default interactions with others is to look pissed off and always challenge everything in an ego-centric way.  Bitch about your job constantly, bitch about other people, bitch about how you are getting the short straw over and over again.  They desperately want people to think they don’t give a shit.  But I am the true face of someone who doesn’t give a shit, and it’s not glamorous at all.  It is the most misunderstood kind of person, and I never take the time to impose my ego on others or explain my views ad nausea.

But it feels good to move through with that kind of apathy, because it lets you get rid of all the ego that makes daily life such a chore.  If only my entire body wasn’t sore from the past two weeks….