1. |
Los Surcos del Azar
03:27
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These doomed quests that seduce us. Vengeance on a phantom enemy. Haunted always by these old ghosts who prevent us from being free. There are paths we must follow. The road is preordained. No matter how we resist, we can’t avoid the rising flames. The spiral downwards begins anew. It’s been set in motion, the cycle renews. Vague forces outside ourselves, no matter how we resist – the spiral downwards begins anew.
I stare to the horizon, watching dioxide rise like a specter crawling up towards the sky. Burning nostalgia, while the memory fades away. Now the dream is over, the insect is awake.
I like the feel of the wind on my scars as I freefall into oblivion. I like the sky when it’s dark, staring up at the gaping maw. Only then do the radiant ones reveal themselves, only then does their brilliance shine. Only in silence, the word. Only in dying, life.
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2. |
What Comes Afterward
02:47
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We are estranged from ourselves. Our connection is lost to world. We are untethered from each other. The plot has unraveled. We’ve come undone.
Atomized and isolated, easy prey for these false gods. A cold wind has left us hollowed, desperate for something to fill the hole.
The lives we lead don’t resonate. The words we speak ring out false. An evil eye leers from above. Our ears fill with wax, our eyes callous over.
Paper over rot, a temporary fix. What comes afterwards, the creatures that emerge from the rubble of the aftermath of halcyon days gone by. Your image shrouded in mist. My fall was spectacular, but in this state of hallucinated lucidity, I understood: We do not see our own dreams, only the dreams they make us see. A dark spirit whispers evil counsel endlessly.
Denied our own songs, let us sing.
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3. |
The Next Minor Peak
05:06
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Magnify my virtues, conceal my doubts. The master’s tools cannot be used to dismantle the master’s house. An all-seeing eye, but at what toll? I saw their palaces, but they saw my soul. Listen to the steady drone. An endless search for a place called home.
Some do not understand that this is all we have.
Another false summit, the next minor peak. A new pair of handcuffs you proudly call “equity”. I am a composite of wounds amassed. Enfolded in darkness do you not seek a lamp?
Some do not understand that this is all we have. All I see are shadows at mass. Silently praying, they worship the past.
The storm will pass. The wound will scab. The seeds law dormant until the sun comes back. The stars continue to shine at night despite the smog keeping them from sight.
There are things they can’t take from us. There’s a shimmer beneath the rust.
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4. |
Kaleidoscopic Diversions
03:39
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A plume of smoke hangs in sapphire skies. An air of faded splendour. Eyes that see nothing but nightmares, ears that are deaf to the clamour of birds outside of windows, always kept boarded and shuttered. A gnawing sense of having had and lost something infinite.
Always the same song repeating in my head. The chorus is deafening. The tension always rising and rising. The melody sweeping me towards oblivion.
I reach to my pocket and bear witness to a carnival of insignificance. I feel nothing. No connection. A miracle with no meaning. A permanent state of distractedness is where I live these days. Smaller changes wash over me unnoticed.
The lights must never go out. The music must always play. Lest we should see where we are and notice the decay. A haunted wood, the dead of night. Afraid of the dark, we blind ourselves with light. The cult of self, compelling us to degrade ourselves and stare into the fire. In these times of dying gods, clench your teeth and embrace the empty sky.
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5. |
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6. |
Suspended Animation
02:19
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How do you ever outrun it? Is it possible to escape? The city outside dead asleep while I’m underground, deeply stashed away. I was bogged down in the past again when your harsh light lit me up. It was a hint from heaven. Nothing was the same again.
This town, it never changes. I always notice it on my return. Floating in suspended animation, frozen still while the world turns.
By the time the final chords had played, I had been changed forever. I heard your song from within my tomb. Despite myself I began to bloom.
Is there a decent way to live? Or a noble way to fade? I’m floating in suspended animation, frozen still while the world turns.
How do you ever outrun it? I’m not living at all.
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7. |
A House of Mirrors
00:43
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8. |
A House in the Mist
04:10
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I watch the fog at dawn as it dissolves at first light. It evaporates into nothing, revealing silent green and white. Have I numbed an essential part of me? A mind that’s clouded with worry, walking amongst the trash and blight. I ride the train across the river, staring up at empty sky. Have I numbed an essential part of me?
Searching for a house in the mist, I discovered a mirage. A temple to false prophets, selling me on the new god.
Someone is carving their own likeliness - a eulogy on subway walls. Every day I search the city for a new way to fall. Has it always been like this? Unbroken monotony. Life is a vague horror to me. The heaving vastness of the city. A mounting terror in the street. Has it always been like this?
Searching for a house in the mist, I discovered a mirage. A temple to false prophets, selling me on the new god. I crawled inside my tomb and became a shadow of myself. I’m part of the city now. The path to paradise begins in hell.
We are chained to this place. We risk life for transcendence. To survive this moment, the promise of redemption. The dead leaves, the pale sky. A new god to provide salvation from these lies. We’re headed for uncharted seas. The shadow swallows the light of the street. Forget death. Forget life.
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9. |
Shadows on the Wall
01:26
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10. |
Hint from Heaven
02:28
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Sometimes he experienced profound awe at the ordinary. Sometimes he got lost in the details, dragged down in the mire. Theirs was an affection born of shared disenchantment. I wouldn’t say they’d given up, but they knew enough to know there’s no salvation. He said felt like he had one foot inside of a compulsory illusion, while the other was on a cloud or in a different dimension and that it was getting harder to tell the difference. Normally he couldn’t remember his dreams.
He said he’d never wanted to be anything in particular. She said ditto. She said she was numbing herself to avoid being immobilized by fear and rage and that given the alternative it was better not to feel anything. She said the future is a big empty room, there are no windows or doors and you’re never allowed to turn off the lights. He didn’t really know what she meant by that, but he said he agreed. She was bored after hearing the same flaming oratories online. Neither one of them wanted to be outraged anymore.
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11. |
Cryptobiosis
04:10
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A metabolic state to avoid impending collapse. Just bide your time until the feeling comes back. Believe in something in the midst of hell. Nothing’s perfect, but man, we fall short so well.
We labour, but our labour is wasted. We are guided only by compulsion.
A spring ephemeral, blooming until death in the heat of the desert or some desperate mudflat. A field left fallow to renew and restore. There are few amongst us who will reach the other shore.
We labour, but our labour is wasted. We are guided only by compulsion. So perfect is our misery, not once do we perceive it.
What does a wolf teach her pup but teeth and hunger? Drown in information but still die from lack of wisdom.
Perpetually online. Wires hooked to veins. I tried to illicit a response, but no consciousness remained. A metabolic state to avoid impending collapse. Just bide your time until the feeling comes back.
A composite of wounds amassed. Lost in darkness. Am I worthy of your ghost? Are you here now or am I alone?
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Cemetery Orbit Edmonton, Alberta
Worshipers at the Altar of Riff
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