1. |
An insomniac haze
07:18
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The hands on the clock face float on by
Time without substance, meaning or purpose
Eyes wide open at the ungodly hours of the morn
With the street light through the blinds on her lips
No sound of cars, no drunks trudging by
The sky is clear and it hasn't rained in days
No messenger, no saviour, no discord, no failure
Brighton is never this stagnant.
Pre-trip nausea, she goes downstairs
Her roommate is rolling on the kitchen counter
Lemon haze bound in Asiatic cotton mallow
Quality stuff, he says while misgendering her before licking the cellophane
Though not with intent
No wonder the kitchen smells of citric piss
The city is immobile, lifeless and docile
Less bite than a kid with a broken jaw
She puts on her coat and stands on the deck
Eyes drawn to the grid of red lights looming over the ocean
Lights up a Sterling and despises the peppermint
Spoiling the taste of her 4am coffee.
Time dilation, this pocket of being
Timescale differs by an order of magnitude
Ensnaring the house that's half empty yet over capacity
Like five monkeys caged in a cell fit for two
Buried in a mountain of introspection
She's in the deep end of the search for existence
The lust for meaning and a lust for freedom
She's done it all before, walked the same walk and cried the same night
Trapped, a prisoner of her cycles, lost in Samsara
Endlessly repeating the same tired feelings
Endlessly repeating the same weary emotions
Endless, breathing
Endless.
Brighton fades into nothingness.
All end, floating and meaningless.
Absence of space, absence of being.
Tightly folded excuses to mean something when you can just sit back and exist.
Feel nothing and everything, arms free and drifting.
The lights speed past her head.
Vibrant pinks, neon blues, lime greens, iridescent yellows—that was the come up.
She sits back on the deck and lingers, she simply exists.
The disconnect from call + form.
Devoid of all place and purpose.
Liberation, isolation, there is no conquest for space.
Determination vanishes, urgency dissipates, an amoeba operating in a vacuum.
No fear of tomorrow and no resent for yesterday, today isn't a concept.
The deadlines cease to exist and thoughts become air.
Liminal spaces, absence of want and need, is this what peace feels like?
Nothing here makes sense, and that's alright.
It's not that deep still.
Because she couldn't be dealing with that, not tonight.
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2. |
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You were the one that time forgot,
In this hideous visage of a land that rejects you and I for who we are.
A vista of misgivings and repeated mistakes,
How do we stand brave against those who despise us?
With the wind howling and the song repeating,
Beating us down into the grave they made for us.
Though I thought I knew better,
Than to live life with your face in my mirror, and your skin clinging to my shoulders.
Though I could've had it worse,
For I could hate you as a person, but I don't.
For your eyes are my own,
And my voice echoes the same words as yours.
You see the world from my shoes,
And I feel the world from your fingers, with the passage of time dragging you with me.
So come down, come on down and listen,
Hear your voice ring through the air and sing into the rising sun of the Wednesday.
Come down and find me in our bed and rest.
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3. |
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We are a pair of stars, floating in the endless, breathing void
Vibrant and sparse streaks of purple and blue ascending upwards, upwards and upwards
Until they curve around at the peak and begin their descent into the convergence like a rollercoaster
Only to come back around once again for the great ascent
Each streak of strobing light is a spiraling tunnel, shifting in constant motion in a loop
Each of the infinite tunnels is a living, breathing entity conforming to the passage of time
And here we are, two singular points on an infinite line
Climbing upwards into our downfall with no going back
Even if we cease to move, even if we opt to fight, the ocean pulls us up by the collars of our shirts
But that does not mean we cannot stick together. That we cannot be pulled apart.
We can fight the lateral flow and remain a constant.
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4. |
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I stand there naked in your shadow in the darkened room
Your face as clear as day in the mirror
As dust circulates around the air, clumps filling up in my throat
And the mycelium bears fruit beneath the broken floorboards
You stand unmoving, unwavering, unrelenting
A force so stagnant, an ember that does not flicker
It is not for me to want you gone, for your face is the burden I must bear
Bare naked and resisting the urge to wretch
And with a deep, painful breath I turn around
To blow out the candle whose light couldn't bear its teeth.
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5. |
Birdsong
06:20
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It was a swirling voice
Dancing through the air from the earth
Getting lost and tossed aside in the noise
Fragments of a song that yearned to be heard
Like gravel scattered by the waves without any choice
Or the desperate and deprived chirping of a bird
In the middle of the winter
Sun piercing through the night sky
The duvet is burning, ablaze like the northern star, I begin to sinter
Eyes locked wide in a pool of sweat, wondering why
Night after night, oh the sleepless night, time refuses to crack and splinter
And the wind howls, running its claws down the window pane, beckoning me to approach
I throw wide the window and gaze into the street light
Jesus flickers before me, arms out and offering
In one hand a rope, soaring high through the clouds to the heavens
And in the other is a key to a lock that is unknown to me
My eyes trace the rope up to the sky, the escape would be quick and painless
But instead I take the key that opens neither here nor there.
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Avalina Manchester, UK
experiencing the deposit of faith. avalina, aka absolute notion, aka one limb of bestial vanguard sextet, fka meanwhile. guitarist, vocalist, songwriter, oscillator of bad frequencies.
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