1. |
Relax
01:02
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Hold me back from restricted breaths, pressured blood, multiple stab wounds from relentless sharpened thoughts. Paralyzed, hog tied, aware yet buried, implanted yet unsteady, unstable. Non stabled, free range worries wandering and stalking, leaking and blotting, collecting and clotting. Blocking veins, twisting tripe, upsetting systems, high alert security blaming and chasing innocent victims. Hard packing. Focused attack: Stacked impacts, magnifying glass precision. Remember this will pass!
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2. |
Weak
00:45
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There’s a never ending list raining down; hierarchical storms of directives and expectations like plagues of locust. I stand alone in the swarm and watch others lift off and join. I refuse to back down.
I listen, but I won’t comply with what is not right.
You tarnish my name to supplement your feelings, but your failures are as true as before you laid me across them. You have no spine. You play leader, but only follow direction. You blame; resist complication, confrontation, solution. You worm! You have no business here.
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3. |
Potion
01:28
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What a change takes place in perspective; crossing cycles, timelines, and situational stressors. I look back at myself in the dark and can't explain how I was there and unable to find light, unable to rationalize, unable to see and grasp what's important to me, unable to become and accept love.
I can't comprehend how narrow my focus until I'm back on the surface. There's no doubt that happiness is engrained in life. I grip so hard with my skinny fingers, but like a ghost it flows. It comes and goes.
After a taste I hope to find and bottle what it is that creates contentedness.
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4. |
Build
01:08
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Take inspiration, take courage, isolate imitation. Put water on the walls of the box they've sealed us in: It's not meant to be contained. Forget the standards, ignore what you're told about how to create.
We've lost the drive for new ideas. We form habits instead of parting ways with what's been made.There's no purpose in highlighting highlighted sections. I cannot rely on used views to facilitate my expression. I refuse to create without a mind for progression. We are pressured to replicate passion and perspective, but that's empty and worn!
In this day and age we are strangled by what's been done before and the expectations to uphold those values. Pay your respects to the greats and move onward.
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5. |
Decade
01:15
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I'm over light speed proving theories, dipping in and out of fluctuations in gravity, ducking through wormholes; multidimensional. I miss subtle changes, get lost in the rhythmic advance of calendar squares: pen events, forget details. I watch faces age, hairs grow grey, but I feel like I've evaded becoming jaded. My heart hasn't aged. My soul still aches to play. I'll break the mold set for my age/ignore the norms. These expectations I push them away. But I can't ignore the past when pulled from photos, film or digital folders. Light speed! The truth in focus: realizing life's momentum.
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6. |
Snap
01:15
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What's locked inside is sheltered, is contained, is abstained from fresh air and sunlight, folded and pressed through the mail slot, towering on the floor like stacks of unopened advertisements, corporate/company mail. I Forget to inhale. I regret what has failed. Like trudging through wet cement, like the air has turned to gelatin.
The slate remains blank. it feels like there's no place to begin and repetitive days can bake out the will to create, can make hours feel like extended stays. I waste time spent face-to-face. Connections crumble. Pipes break.
The grind/the routine ruins sleep. I shut my eyes, but I'm just counting sheep. My mind refuses to let me dream.
"I spent the night wide awake,
And then I looked outside and saw a beautiful day,
I'm rolling with the punches while I pick up the pace,
'cause nothing's gonna fuck with me today."
With the sun at my back I ice my bruises, shred what's useless. Hey! Let's do this!
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7. |
Breach
01:03
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There are rats under the street chewing cables, polluting rivers, finding places to escape tracing; visual representation. Tails tie and tangle, increasing mass and impact, chasing cares, causing relapse.
There are rats under the street multiplying, intensifying. Thousands of chattering teeth sustaining disease, containing release. There are rats under the street withholding peace.
Spend time pretending. Waste time forgetting.
In the shade, in the darkest parts at unspeakable depths, but not unreachable: rats under the street. Breaking bones in jaws. There are rats under the street.
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8. |
Clear
01:25
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Days expire, shedding their bodies to decay. What doesn’t waste away I feel mandated, obliged to carry. Sour skin and tissue thicken in stench, curdling my face and focus from blessings and stressors to sirens and stretchers.
The remains I bear aren’t associated with instruction: no choice or forced is what I’d like to be able to say. Hey, but I’m starting to accept this shackle on my leg which strengthens bitterness and anger is my own stubborn brain.
It’s a cycle that sustains this state. To forget I must also learn to forgive YooooooOOOoooOOOoou.
"It seems that every time I get things started
I gotta put ‘em down to do the right thing
It happens each and every time, what a crooked design
over and over again."
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9. |
Relief
01:09
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Can it ever be enough? Can’t we ever just cut up these problems, shape, devour or solve them? This life has a shovel and we’re dodging soil, running around holes to bury us alive. Duck. Fake. Take cover. Think of what you love. Don’t stay. Take Weight! Accelerate, change lanes. Don’t wait to break. Remember to escape your head, go camp or on the porch with friends. Let’s crack a beer and go outside.
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10. |
Void
01:13
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I can feel the air filling gaps like liquid, sludge-ing between sand and stone, impeding intuition: "I can't." "I feel alone." It's alive... IT'S ALIVE! Hacking into my system, suppressing my mind.
Restricting my breaths, compressing my chest, like circled arms on bench vices.
Conducting factual mirage with emotive direction: I can't see clear. Its effect affects affect. its damage direct.
A lead based fog stamped flat under pressure, vacuum sealed rounding landscapes and textures. Gray paint and powder coat and dilute all that pleasures. Dissociation oils my feathers. It's holding me down.
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11. |
Fixed
00:22
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They can't break from that meat-head testosterone brain / They turn truth into hearsay / They accept hate with blinder sights, vacant empathy.
"Still slingin' the same old bullshit..." Hey! We’re pissed!
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12. |
Pause
02:04
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There's no purpose for me to look back with a longing heart and imagine altered decisions and the results they'd bring: the never ending list of variables teetering, toddering, falling down in patterns. Useless information. Brain-wave mutilation.
Emotional wellbeing becomes cannon fodder for impossible schemes. The past begs to be cradled and carried around through intoxicating dreams of what could be found or achieved with knowledge I forgot was not there during. Trying to outsmart hardship with impossible actions and reverse planning; it's bootless, doofus! I'm compelled to chase outdated options as if they were current.
These attempts to solve problems already rooted is fruitless, like chewing rock candy after you've become toothless, hoping for new flavor in gum once you've chewed it, pretending you should of known better than to choose this: it's insanity and to put myself through it is ruthless and stupid. I knew this! Why do I do this? Realign my mind with the present tense. I cannot be bound to represent expired time: chances I've already spent.
There's no purpose for me to live in a time that isn't now.
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13. |
Resolve
00:39
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You know I try not to punch my head when things don't go as planned. I have to stitch back my severed brain, explain that life is not charted land. Take weight from my head. Take from my pack. Shine the gas mantle flame, illuminate my mistakes.
Make camp, prescribe fire, welcome change, fresh starts start today.
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14. |
Cant
01:13
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My friends: brain-dead.
We have lost our lives it seems to the endless depths of force fed facts arranged in memes, dressed up and placed to make face and take place of true advocacy. Often laced with contradictions: your spell checked motivational speech. Are you changing minds? Or are you chasing likes? Or do you decide what is wrong and what is right? Wrong! Like! YEAH RIGHT!
You boldly tell how it is to your mainly inside crowd of same beliefs-leftover-angst-middle-to-late-20-somethings-to-early-30s. How could you be so brave as to bear your clichés and 100% expect respect from your safeguarded claims? How could you type with courageous hands and heart when you're not challenged and nothing is changing? Nothing is changing.
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15. |
Balance
00:58
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Are our opinions too long and impenetrably strong or porous and understanding? Ideas bounced like pong end up as stone ground issues, identifiable by dental records. To understand? We say we try, but too often we are stuck on one side.
We feel what's right/We feel what's wrong, which makes compromise so hard, but where do we get when we debate, argue and defend without stubborn-less conversation on both sides?
Present/Receive. I'm right/You're right.
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16. |
Stretch
01:33
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They say you're too grown up for games. They say you're too grown up to skate, to stay up/sleep late, test fate, think of yourself... Give me a break! I've earned my years and fought back the tension, ignored the ringing in my ears, the sit still and pay attentions. I still wound my knowledge and packed it through my nostrils like gauze. I'm still capable of accomplishment. I can excel as an adult, but I attempt to keep my sights playful yet strong, drinks stiff, aspirations long, adventures prolonged and plentiful. They say, "Grow up and come back to reality." Well I'll make my own. They judge where you are and how you handle it, but what they have is not good enough. They say, "Keep dreaming..." well I do and I will! They say, "Keep dreaming..."
What would it be like to stop reaching? Stop seeking? To settle for something that's not out of reach? For me that's not good enough. To stop breathing? To stop being? That's not good enough. I'll keep...
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17. |
Rooted
01:47
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As a kid I ached for new places, but was forced to create, correct the mistakes and fill the craters of boredom we felt our area encased.
Some days it felt like torture, like getting caught in the rain, but looking back we made it and it made us and I wouldn't change a thing.
This is who I am and where I'm from. I love this city and how it's grown: the attitude, the feeing of home, of beginning rather than latching on, of building rather than buying. Onward west/east coast/in between: we send you with love, but if you leave or were never here your opinion means nothing.
You think you look down on us?
You think you're disgusted?
Buzz off, you scum! You're nothing!
You didn't stay to become this place: you can't say what you say you're escaping. You're gone, but you haunt like some small town ghost: powerless and unknown, unable to let go. Your voice echoes through your hollow descriptions and vague negative tone. Delayed comprehension. Assumed information. Indecipherable reflection.
Go back to LA. Go back to the bay. Go back where you came from.
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Take Weight Toledo, Ohio
Beers, Babes and Bros, Discount Sushi, ROCK AND ROLL.
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