1. |
homethingy
03:29
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won't you let me be your shadow babe,
won't you let me be your ghost?
you could walk over me.
yea, you could walk all over me.
i just want four walls to store my shit
and save my memories
so i don't have to think
just drive,
on the road to all the you's i've written
but never sent a letter
only named the four walls, "never mine"
the four walls: never mine.
the four walls never mind.
the four walls— nevermind.
i'll collect more memories
— and clothes,
all along the way
until i hit the other coast
and stall before the bay—
drive into the sea ,
or get scared of my golden muses
and turn back to my little hideaway.
either way, i'll be headed home.
i don't keep tabs on broken hearts
but they're all i have to know i've left my mark.
scratch a name into my car— it isn't yours—
but it felt right to write, now i'm keeping track.
[[[]]]]
I'm a scared little creature, backed in a corner
til i get what i've got coming
til i get where i've been running
close enough for you
to squash me (like a bug)
under your heel
so this is what it is to feel.
[[[]]]
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2. |
torn in the field
00:48
|
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i don't want to let you go.
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3. |
tweetweee
01:14
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4. |
throw it to the dogs!
02:38
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i want to have paddleboard hands so i can swim like a dog, and look silly while i play guitar. let's focus on extremities and forget the meat of me— i keep it cold and neat to stave off the rotting.
what the fuck is a body supposed to be?
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5. |
ok
02:08
|
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i freak out when i'm personal!
i freak out when i'm shallow!
i freak out!
(can you be more fucking careful about how you write?)
(they say it's sad, "it's a sorry excuse for making art out of suffering.")
it's a sorry excuse!
my hands are cold, so I run hot water over them.
the skin is cracked, so I rub oil on them.
i can't hold my guitar now, it just slides.
it just slides right past the frets.
(write past the frets.)
and i am making noise for no one.
and i am just my talking head.
(i adjust my talking head.)
the strings and I face-down against the floor.
(the drum and i are dead.)
no, you can't stand this anymore.
It's a cycle we just can't beat, trying to be okay. i am
trying to be ok.
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6. |
next door outer darkness
01:14
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up all night my neighbors wish i would die
i am quiet now
not so loud, be quiet now
still too loud
quiet
too loud still
even still
still
in the bathroom corner
it is too much!
it is too much for peace and quiet
though I tried! i really tried!
i really....
please don't hate me! i don't hate you.
it just isn't working out.
it just isn't working out.
i want to move back south
not your way my way
[[far from any heel called home]]
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7. |
four walls sixth seal
01:36
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when we have no one to see but ourselves;
the only meetings rendezvous, interventions, are with ourselves.
and Heaven is a jail cell
and Heaven takes a phone call
Heaven is full now,
i always get the busy tone.
the breathing stops on the Other end,
the line goes dead.
and our Heaven is our Hell.
(four walls seven circles four walls seven circles)
spiraling
(fourwallssevencirclesfourwallssevencircles)
to the corners of the room, spiraling.
spiraling, to the corners of the room.
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8. |
||||
I feel like I’m going to die.
But it’s fine, it’s alright.
I feel like I’m going to die. (just breathe.)
I don’t know what to do with myself (until then)
(just breathe)
I’m going to die.
just breath
until–
–(I’m going to die)
–(i’m fine)
I feel like–
(just breathe. just breathe.) ((i’m going to die))
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9. |
before morning
01:24
|
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i am sick of being such a guilty kind of thoughtful
i am (sick of being) a sadsack self-obsessed
that i cant get off the couch
to the door
to forget who i am
the scab came off
while i was still.
in mo(u)rning
had not gone to bed yet
had not laid by head down
to rest.
in peace
in morning
in peace
in mourning
the scab fell off.
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10. |
in space
02:05
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thank god for sweater weather
wait. not yet.
we return—
we're all gonna die—
— it's infinite.
— we're infinite.
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11. |
||||
“what??”
“nothing, i’m just saying bullshit.“
“i could not understand you.”
“you can’t understand me?”
“can you hear me now?”
yea. “the other guitar just came in”
(he couldn’t hear the track while recording into the mic)
(he pulled up his to-do list and we passed it back n forth)
"...riding bike?"
"doing homework"
"looking for a therapist."
"... riding a bike, not your 'bitchin’ camaro'”
“not your father’s bitchin’ camaro...”
“—i have a truck... but still no therapist.”
“i have a therapist… but still no truck.”
we were laughing at the end of the song (if you'd call it that)
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12. |
frosted glass
01:50
|
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looking back in,
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13. |
moth thoughts
01:00
|
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no butterflies in your stomach
a head full of moths.
your skull is the sweater.
is this really the weather?
cuz you could take it off,
and let them unravel you from the inside.
the walk to the car is longer than the drive.
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14. |
june bugs in october
00:29
|
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i’d never seen so many lightning bugs holding on to summer
as I did in the grass of the cemetery
June born again in October
[[[[[]]]]]
their lights going out by the edge of the tombstone pond, as if they know how fragile; with one rain and they drown.
but what is gained in giving up
or what is lost?
the ones that flicker on
with their lights in the grass
form constellations to entertain
the ones above
built from the bodies below.
blinking pen nibs of carbon hollow
how to’s of starlit fable
orbital, illuminated
by the fireflies with their skeletons looking in
shining on in autumn.
keeping stellar shapes fresh
with their thirty day lights,
as those who've gone to dirt
paint their stories on the sky.
yes, those gone quiet and to loam
make constellations of their own.
keep the lights on, diamond. this world is not your home.
[[[[[]]]]]
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15. |
twist o'fate
02:45
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16. |
||||
it felt so nice to be so wanted
it felt so nice to want so bad
your hair was fluffed ridiculously
it felt so nice
it felt so nice
i thought i was over the idea of being in love
then i dreamt i was with you
the twink i pledged to obliterate
what am i to do?
i can't resist a nemesis to lovers AU...
the fantasy where we integrate
disintegrates
we disintegrate
when i open my eyes
when i open my eyes...
i will open my eyes...
i will...
i will open my eyes...
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17. |
UR A
01:48
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i am not the only nancy boy you know!
no i am not the only nancy boy you know!
get closer to me, and i’ll tell you— i'll spell you—
THE WORDs you're oh-so afraid to hear:
UR A ◼️◼️◼️
UR A ◼️◼️◼️
I'M A ◼️◼️◼️
~let me make it clearer~
YOU ARE A ◼️◼️◼️
you are a ◼️◼️◼️
YOU. ARE. A. ◼️◼️◼️
!!!
[[[[[[]]]]]]
[encounter 1.a]
once at the goth club, i was out smoking a………… ◼️◼️◼️
–cigarette.
i had to get one off–…...
…..–some Other .....~guy~.
this time i swear i slur my words in the less provocative ^sense^
he gave it up–…….
…….– for free.
since usually it’s not loose change i keep in my pocket–
i do stay strapped–…….
…….–for cash.
cuz i'm a ◼️◼️◼️
just a poor ◼️◼️◼️
PATHETIC, really ◼️◼️◼️
but! i am not the only nancy boy you know!
no, i am not the only nancy boy you know!
[encounter 1.b]
outside the goth club, there were moths flocking to the streetlight
one of them had his head–
–cocked–
my way.
he said, “GOD, don’t you just hate the gays?”
i replied with an affirmative “same.”
and then i put out my cigarette
on the face of his watch.
the patio smelt like piss, but his cigarette was still lit.
so i leaned in close to him and took another hit.
damp tobacco this time!
but i was riding another high from that [kiss]—
—couldnt even smell the piss anymore! that’s what i call a double score!
cuz i'm a ◼️◼️◼️
an optimistic ◼️◼️◼️
*too* optimistic, maybe ◼️◼️◼️
sunshine and rainbows ◼️◼️◼️
but we were both ◼️◼️◼️
so it worked out fiiiiine
cuz we're not the only nancy boys you know!
no i am not the only nancy boy you know!
[encounter 2]
at another club, a dionysus discotheque,
we broke on to the fire escape after the doors shut
to watch them make their way drunkenly home
we didn't know how we were going to drunkenly get down.
on our second date we climbed thirty feet up some pines
so we could chirp at passing peers like telephone wires above
— are we too high right now for me to call this love?
[encounter 3]
though the age was twice (or older)
he was only ever nice
what can i say— he was an actor and Tragedy's my greatest vice
plus i got to meet his dog in the car
plus we weren't so far apart
that we couldn’t have died side-by-side
(waterlogged hamlet in the park)
together in a past life,
where he said we were lesbian lovers
what goes around comes. -back out.
(twice over.)
scrunched my eyes tight so i wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
[encounter 4]
it took three chances for us to put the brakes on just "passing",
thinking we’d never meet.
first we went 80mph down a suburb street,
and after the deed he told me how to fix my car on the cheap.
“third times the charm"–
–and he tried again to get me off
but hitting my head
only set off the car alarm
so instead he dropped me off
on the public library lawn.
i’m a terrible ◼️◼️◼️
i know i am a ◼️◼️◼️
– a screwed ◼️◼️◼️
but hey!
i am not the only nancy boy you know!
no, i am not the only nancy boy you know!
◼️◼️◼️
[[[]]]]
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18. |
||||
19. |
til i see you there,
00:38
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20. |
nancy boy / doghead Oberlin, Ohio
hawai'i > cleveland > ???
animal bard with one foot in rock n roll and the other up their ass,
a noise clown who has some shit it needs to scream and sing a prayer to.
>:03c
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