1. |
Void Song
04:19
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[Unknown:]
…goodbye!
Oh I loved her so dear,
and her love I did not fear.
I thought it would always last,
but now it’s in the past…
I have wasted my limbs and my throat, the sweat of my brow, and the esteem of my peers. I have written all these words only to disappoint myself.
No matter how carefully crafted it may be, my lifeline could be nothing but these frequencies that fight off my fears. I’ve tried to pull meaning from anyone’s suffering, instead I’m coming to terms with feeling so sad, small, and scared.
By now, it’s been done to death. Overblown and picked apart. What’s left I only have to guess.
No more feelings, no more songs. The best has come and gone.
It still hurts, but I cannot stop serenading the void. It’s the only thing I can do to feel like I’ve left a mark. It’s living life under a shadow—the visceral but fleeting ghosts of youth and its imminent decline.
I still long for art not born of suffering. How long will I sing the music of my wounds?
There’s no more room to grow. Don’t weep for what I have become. I swear I’m better off. I swear!
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2. |
Impostor Syndrome
02:29
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Is this what is meant by burned out? I like to pretend all of this has no impact on me. I like to pretend no one looks so closely. I craft an image of myself to view at a distance. Now the image is all that remains. Truth be told, I am terrified. I’m the product of a different man who walked here on dumb luck and walked off.
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3. |
Immaterial
03:46
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Is everyone my age doomed to selfish death?
Held down by the immaterial?
Is everyone my age doomed to selfish death in all their everything?
My sense of purpose has been dulled by the taunting of ghosts that visit my head.
I need peace in silence, comfort in stillness.
It’s insignificant, but I’ll remember how I was reborn among the bright flashes and screaming.
I’ve never known the delicate platitudes of life not trapped in, or maybe tethered to, the warm embrace of indoor spaces.
When I finally die in a quiet bed, I think it’s too much to ask, but I want to feel whole when the dream ends.
And when it finally does end, I will not go quietly.
I will set out on my own never to return.
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4. |
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Every day is a struggle to see if this life is really worth the suffering.
I'm taking this string of my regrets and snapping it off from my neck.
Sometimes the voice in my head gets the best of me.
If I confess to feeling helpless, would it help me see my way through this and live in the moment?
Life doesn't have to be all misery, I swear there's some good in all of this.
I can't stop it all from crashing down on me. A constant weight, gravity has its fucking hold on me.
If I let go of the past, will it help me to see this all a little more clearly?
I would be content with the smallest answer.
No matter how much I change, the questions stay the same.
I'll say what I've always known: just live, have hope. One day I will feel at peace.
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5. |
Fears
04:23
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Fueled by my fears of failure and loss of purpose, the wheel keeps turning
I keep digging my own holes and cracking my foundations
Why am I so afraid?
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6. |
Undying Lands
03:05
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I’ll keep pretending that life is a continual work in progress.
Like the wounds I’ve accumulated won’t one day catch up to me.
It’s the paradox of non-existence—the unknowable space outside of endings, before beginnings.
But in the middle of those, what is left there for me?
I'm not cut out for these forty-hour weeks.
This "real world" has no place for me.
I've watched life pass me by, watched my health steadily decline.
I don't remember the last time that I felt all right.
So I close my eyes while on the highway just to feel alive.
Now I know my home is not the same, so I’ll leave to find new places, break the paradigm of pointless days.
I’m tired of the cold, and I’m tired of waiting for a miracle.
Awake with the fire of farewells, I’m setting out to make my mark. It will be small, but it will be mine.
No truth nor meaning will fall into my lap. I will make it for myself.
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