Recording

Human Ruin is recording soon. In the mean time Kevin and I need to discuss the Zine.
I have been reworking a lot of my poetry lately. Be on the look out for a few good updates. Also. Here are two records I want everyone to get into. One's an oldie but a good and the second one is a demo.

Lifetime - Jersey's Best Dancers



Burning Love - Demo 7"

This perch is mine. I’ve sat here longer than that creature has been able to waltz around on both of its pieces of flesh. Longer than then the herders have told the creature what is right and what is wrong. Come to think of it longer than that creature ever existed. I came before the creature and its herders. I do remember and different place other than this. That place is where my first memory comes from. I remember seeing my surroundings, everything so brilliant and so far away. It seems that the beginning of me occurred when I was looking forward on the first day I can remember and much to my surprise I saw a round object stuffed into the front of my home. Speaking of my home, it’s a wonderful sort of place, I’ve got a surface that I always sit on and I’m protected from every direction. After my home was ‘plugged’ up I continued my life anew as if I were just born. I originally sat in an open room on top of a large piece of wood where every 24 hours the same sacks of flesh would sit down and shove things into their orifices at the top of the flesh. This is how life progressed for me, the same two flesh bundles all the time, no noise, just moans and creaks that progressively got more apparent as time passed. Time did just that, it passed quit steadily. There was a few times that I had been shifted around, face different directions, even put away onto a high shelf while decorations littered my original residence. My earliest memories were joyful, my house would be cleaned every once and a while, I’d be polished and smiled at. As days trudge by, the cheerful air seems to have vanished, and a thick air of sorrow coats my surroundings.
--
One day silence is broken, with a whimper at first. To me they were screams; whether they were endorsed with anger, grief, or sadness I do not know.
“Why did she wait so long to get this checked out?!” ejected the frantic fleshy object. “There was so much more time we could have spent together!”
I had no idea what was going on, but the object continued to pace back and forth along the wood my home resided upon. The fleshy offshoots it had were flailing about as it mentioned ‘regret’, ‘longing’, ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’. Words and phrases unfamiliar to me but within the context of the situation I could feel the energy leaping from each word.
As days continued to pass I could feel less and less energy coming from the fleshy object. Its movements became slower and slower. One day the object grasped its flesh around me and pulled me near to its core. I could feel a steady push and pull from the within the flesh, it was a strange thump thump sound. At about this time I could feel a pitter patter atop my house. I could trace what it was due to the fact that as soon as it hit a substance would run down the sides of my home. The noise was coming from above; somewhat heavy pellets of an easily separated substance were bombarding me.
Now close to the object I could hear a whimper from within its core, it rattled my home and dislodged one of the pieces of fabric atop my center pole. I could make out something that sounded like this; “I should have done something sooner, a doctor’s visit would have been enough, always so stubborn, we were both always so stubborn”. The words leaked out quite slowly with gasps between every couple of sounds as if the object was tired and unable to eject a whole thought without pausing. At this time I felt myself moving, a wonderful feeling, I felt as if I were meant to be in motion. It was not an abrupt movement; I kept in motion for some time as I remember. It felt as if I was never going to stop, and I began to remember the objects voice panting to release its thoughts. As the motion I was in came to a halt I could see new surroundings and a faint image of the old object was in the distance slowly being herded into a structure by another object. At this time my vision went black like a cape over the sun and I felt myself in motion once more. I was placed again on top of a large piece of wood which is where I would spend the rest of my days. Unveiled I was able to assess my surroundings, they looked the same as before, I was facing the same direction as before, my houses walls were the same as before. While I became filled with a swell of let down I overheard words from somewhere close by.
“We are doing this because we have to, you can no longer take care of yourself so we are setting you up with a place to live there they will look after you.” A voice devoid of will murmurs.
“What’s that you’re getting someone to wipe my bottom and feed me mush?” said a familiar voice that paced the speech out.
“No dad, its assisted living you will still be wiping… Oh never mind, it’s just for the best dad.”
“Well I won’t have it!”
“Dad, it’s too late we’ve already made the arrangements for you, you’re all set up at Retreaty of Versailles”
I hear it wheeze: “Well son, it’s a sad day when a man’s life is no longer within his command, is this what I worked my whole life for, endured everything for, for my son to lock me into a cookie cutter home and throw away the key?”
There was a pause and heavy breathing.
“Dad you really shouldn’t get so worked up, it’s not good for your health.”
“You’re not good for my health! Keep that stupid center piece we made together for your mother and take me to the Champs-Elysees, Arc de Triomphe, or whatever it is I’ll be spending my last days in because my son can’t take care of me.”
“Alright dad”
As the two slowly pass by my small line of vision I can hear the first object’s sadness within its steps as the herder shuffles it along. Upon reaching the door the object states:
“Give my best to your wife; it’s no surprise she is not around to see me off.”
“Dad, she’s away on business.”
And the two are no longer in sight. I’ve got my own new throne.
--

We should all be happy to be alive.

Ceremony

Ceremony is going to have a new full length dubbed "Rohnert Park" to be released june 8th on Bridge 9 records. I am excited, but apparently ceremony isn't the cool thing to listen to anymore for some people. can't wait to hear it.

Support.

If you've never bought this record, do it. Topshelf Records repressed it, so act now. Support these guys. The best thing bridge9 has.

Omar

My hero. watch the wire.

Chemistry

Ups and downs
marked by sunrise and sunset
fleeting feelings of joy
replaced with stagnant symptoms
of anxiety

pen in hand
no paper in sight

caffeine

nicotine

but nothing can replace
the ignorance I felt
before I realized
this worlds gonna drag me down