1. |
id
03:59
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I’ve been stuck on the weather, of whether or not I can. I’ve borne through my center to ensure last time was the last time. Tried to think, tried to hard, tried to see everything I couldn’t visualize. Well, now you’re pain is etched right into me. I know there’s where I draw my strength now.
As the clouds pass, I wonder where they’ve been and where they’re going but we all know the cages we’re locked in has the keys inside them. But I don’t try to unlock them.
I used to look at the people and think they acted all the same. But the older me knows that they work twice as hard to get half the gains. Well, I don’t know where I fall but I’m starting to recall all the time I spend in here.
As years goes by, I wonder who I’ve been and who I’m gonna be but if pursuing goals means letting go of who I’ve always been - then my id won’t die. As time goes by, it’ll get stronger.
I hope I fight. I have to know that I’d try.
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2. |
Preachy Keen
04:57
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We know the things that we have had. And we’ve had only things that we have have known. But why didn’t I feel a thing when I looked across the street and saw how this game was played?
Pretend you’re weightlessly sinking. Pretense dictates we begin.
No one knows and yet we chastise all the choices that we’re bred to make. No one knows that our blind eyes see more godliness than those who preach.
Change, it always happens the second you don’t want it to. And we all think our luck will never change. But didn’t I feel a thing when I forgot who I was to play to play all the games we play? And why do we hide inside all day when we know that the earth is a lonely home? Why do we dig our own graves when we know sunlight burns all the pain away?
We all know we’ve got power not given by those who dwell above. No one knows to human is to make the best with what we have. Now I know that my purpose is to make amends with how I’ve lived. Now I know to be human is to live enough to hope to die.
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3. |
Xanax
03:48
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I run in circles to catch the person who’s chasing me. I have to live a good life to prove to them they were wrong. It’s so alarming when your mind shuts down and cannot sleep. I think in riddles to keep them from getting in my head.
I could stop these thoughts for $27. I could pop a Xanax and be regular.
I wake up every night to make sure all the doors are locked. I don’t drive anywhere ‘cuz I’d just monitor my speed. Do you think it’s funny that I made a rut and now I’m stuck? Ha, I built myself up using only all your bladed taunts.
I need my dark, ill-conceived thoughts to make another record. All the time I spend alone is how I keep my head from exploding.
Please, psychoanalyze me. Please tell me that I’m wrong. Please reach inside my head and tell me what I’m thinking of.
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4. |
The Worm King
04:03
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I’ve been known to try and pick you up and then sell you for a tidy profit. The raindrop swings by like a cylon eye. I know the worms lives must be justified.
For genocide, entrapment and the lies, I will be the king.
Feelings have a way of escaping me. Bring me down to where you used to be. And now the sky doesn’t seem so bright.
I was wide awake when I lost my life.
I can’t be done, but I can no longer run. There’s so much things I haven’t done. The worms, they feed; I’m a glorious feast. The best dish served cold was me.
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5. |
Panic
01:58
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6. |
Catalyze
03:59
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The road is vinyl; I am the needle. The grooves led me to breakdown in pain. And now, broken, I became a patient. Through these injuries I fear I’ve lost my voice.
I left myself in that rutted earth. I had to turn and walk away. Well, I don’t know if I feel whole. I guess time will tell if I still feel.
I could go two ways - slaughter my brain, or learn to medicate and forget everything. The hand that I was dealt contained no aces. While it served me well, for a spell, it just ain’t sustainable. The balance I had learned from living in my own brain has plainly failed.
As I turn away, I can hear my screams from under the dirt. They’re nonsensical, irrelevant and paranoid and dangerous. As I get farther away, the more than I want to stay the same.
But for now, I’ve buried myself to spare someone else from having to bury me.
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7. |
Day Seventeen
04:45
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I feel I’m losing my grip on what is real and what I’ve dreamt. And because of this rift, it’s taking longer and longer to let my thoughts escape from this brain shaped cellophane membrane. And it’s getting harder to penetrate.
I feel like I used to obfuscate, to misdirect and alleviate so I wouldn’t have to verbalize the nightmare that my head creates.
And is this OK? For this part of me, just to.. just to go away? Is it better to be a person or a shape? I used to speak fast, told to ‘calm down’ when I would escalate. But now.. Now I stutter and I just wanna give up the whole goddamned interface. I swore my id would grow strong, but I feel it withering away. I can’t seem to do anything to slow it’s decay. Is it worse to go mad or not even recognize your own face?
Sure I’ve changed, but the whole goddamn world has and I’m banking on the fact that not enough people care or will notice that I’ve caved. For better or worse, right now it’s all the same side to a trick coin. I’m trying to roll with the punches until the big KO, but it seems like a no go, from the way my brain wants to be completely goddamned nonfunctional.
Well alright. I’ll follow your advice. I’ll stop living my life. I won’t have a drink when my head is filled with strife, or wake to a fresh pressed pot teeming to the brim with comfort inside. I just want you to know that this is not just killing me, but maybe the progress I’ve earned organically.
And to me, that’s more frightening than living dangerously.
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8. |
Recant
03:50
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Withdrawing thrice: Once from the world, once from me, once from you, my third, and once my one, and soon to be none.
And I’m done. I’m done with me, and you, and who I once was.
You helped me get sane, but now I need you out of my goddamn brain. It’s hard to concentrate but great to sleep. Well, now I get neither.
I need to slow down. I need to take a break. I need to be less compressed and more awake.
The narcissist defines his cage and measures bounds with tape and rage. His primitive stick, stuck in fear, this dipshit-dipstick is red to whole way.
I really thought that you might be the key that I needed. Now I’m tossing you away in favor of a relapse.
I need you to dissipate because I cling, and you clung. I slumped and let go; after all, it’s all that I know.
I need to take a break. I need to be more awake. I need to find my morals. I need to take a little time. I need to be a man. I need to be in this maze. I need to get straight. I need to conflate. I need to be this man. I need to be this weight. I need to lay away. I need to wake up.
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9. |
Start Over
02:18
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I tried trying. I quit quitting. I’m like an unhinged top grinding circles in the earth.
I broke ground on this monument and I looked inside and all I found was dead. An obelisk to my insecurities. The more I see, the more the ground breaks down.
What would I do if I were you? I would pin me down and tell me:
‘All these damn demons that you seem to think you’re gonna turn out to be are nothing more but the self-projections of the anxiety you no longer hide.’
‘Quit living inside.’
‘Stop this Jekyll and Hyde.’
’And start over.’
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10. |
Pardon the Sea
03:10
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I’m afraid of what I am... or ain’t. Trying hard not to let you in. Trying hard not to suffocate.
Thinking what memories await. Of all the things I will not create. Thinking about time and relative space. Of all these memes I will not create.
I’ve prayed and atoned - the effort turned out fruitless.
I’ve prayed and atoned and I’m still in the thick of it.
I caught the disease and let red apathy into my heart. Now I don’t believe, but believe me when I say that I am OK, as these walls consume me.
I’m just looking for a helpful hand that can pick me up and not tear me apart again.
Bring me back to where it all began.
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11. |
The Music Is Gone
02:44
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