my band released an ep today and i scream some stuff. for fans of screamo/orchid and all that shit.
give it a listen xoxo
plz listen <3
sometimes people who are
“good with words”
lack the ability to say
things of grace and beauty,
so all i’ve got to say today is:
i wish you never died.
it’s weird for me
when i see writers
that are just in a constant cycle
of e.e. cumming all over themselves.
give me a writer
that keeps their shit
tucked closely in their dirty laundry.
trying to wash themselves clean,
until they’re left with
a product they enjoy for 5 seconds.
confidence is great,
but fear of what you’ve created
makes the houses i’ve build
look like a doghouse
next to a fucking castle.
(i counted to 6,
sometimes i just feel alone and i just feel tired. the other day i looked at a river and i realized how easy it would be just to get in it and float away. i mean that in just about every sense. i thought about how easy it would be to just die. i’m generally a happy person. i have battled with depression and intense anxiety but in the past few years it has been ok. my anxiety comes and goes but my depression i keep stuck in submission, beating it down into the ground where it sits right next to other dirty boxes with labels like “addiction” and “abusive friendships” and “that one band you really liked when you were 12”.
this sense of how easy it would be to “just die” doesn’t come from a place of depression, it comes from a place of “this life is too long and i’m too tired”. of course i would never kill myself, there is too much in this world for me to see in even one lifetime of decent length. but there are moments where i just think about eternal sleep, warm drifting.. pure nothing. it’s comforting in ways, even if i know i will never do it. even though i know i have no real desire to do it.
i think everyone probably thinks about this at least once in their life, even if they wouldn’t call it a thought of suicide. it’s more about how long this life is, and how sometimes it’s not even that we want to give up it’s just that we question if life will go on like this forever. and when i say “like this” i mean just everything. not your own personal life, but the way the world works in general.
when i was younger i used to think about it in a more serious tone, whereas now i think about it as an inside joke to myself. when i was young i used to think to myself that i didn’t have a choice in being brought into this world, but at least i had the choice of leaving this world if i wanted to. those serious ideas of death and suicide were replaced by the real act of people dying in my life. my great aunt passed, my cousin passed, one family friend killed himself in the woods because he had to stand trial against the hell’s angels and they were going to kill him anyway, one family friend died in cuba from a heart condition he didn’t know he had, my grandmother passed, my friend’s mom passed, my friend killed himself. death went from an idea to reality. something that hit me again and again every year.
learning to cope with death was one of the first things i had to do as a teenager. it was a force that was thrust into my life again and again through cancer and suicide, through sickness and mystery. it forced my own selfish ideas of my own death out of my head and put the reality of this life there instead.
now i purely entertain my own death as my own little joke in the theatre of my mind. the ideas of never leaving bed, the ideas of “this life is too long”, the ideas of getting into rivers and floating away. i will always have control of my own life. i always just think back to the family friend who killed himself. he either stood trial against the biggest gang in canada and they killed him, or he went back in the woods with 24 beer and a shotgun and did the job himself. he did the job himself, because he needed that control. he needed to die by his own gun. i would never have that courage. i can end it at any moment, but i never will. i’ll never really want to and i doubt i will ever really need to. it’s the one piece of control we all have and we ignore it like it’s nothing.
the only reason i
have ever desired wealth
is so that i could buy the things back
that were taken from me
so that i can destroy them
on my own terms.
it is okay to wake up
and have everything gone.
one day i wake up and it will
all be gone
i will go away with or
without anyone at all.
i am not waiting for apocalypse.
i will be the apocalypse.
i will wake up,
sidewalks running blood red.
my cup is empty,
our own death is the greatest poem
we could ever hold.
when we get the chance to read it,
it’s too late.
cup is empty and overflowing.
red. red. red. red.
the world is more beautiful
with no one around
- i’m staying in Greenpoint (i’m currently in a small room with my girlfriend that we are renting via airbnb)
- i went 2 Strand don’t worry (which was like a mini-NYC in it’s own right man that place was messed up the rare book room was amazing though and i met an older guy who told me he doesn’t need to smoke weed to get high he just goes to the rare book room)
- i don’t mind the chaos factor of NYC, it’s more the pace of it and the endless concrete. i don’t not like it it’s super cool, but i am positive i could never live here. but i wish i had my bike. it’s very flat. halifax has lots of hills. i’d probably die tho
it’s my first time in nyc and my first time really in america i guess. it’s ok. i don’t know how anyone actually lives in this city. it’s very cool and i’ve barely seen any of it but i can’t believe people really live their life here. it’s massive and insane.
i haven’t seen anything more than a small park since i arrived (mind you i’ve only been here a little over 24 hours and have seen very little) but damn. i like it, but it’s overwhelming. there’s very little green. it’s just concrete and buildings. it’s a weird shock. i mean montreal and toronto are like that too, but obviously not nearly to this extent.
cigarettes are just as expensive here as in nova scotia though. that’s mad fucked up.