Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Revelation:

My friends aren't assholes, they're just not my friends.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Top Albums of 2009

My top ten favorite albums of 2009:

10) Animals as Leaders

by Animals as Leaders
After previously d
eclining a record deal with Prosthetic Records, Tosin Abasi, an eight-string guitarist hailing from the D.C. area, eventually agreed to record a solo album once his band disbanded. Abasi teamed up with Misha Mansoor (AKA Bulb), another local guitarist and engineer, to create a poly-rhythmic record that baffled headbangers and music professors alike. For fans of: elevator music... from hell!


9) Daisy

by Brand New

Since I have Y chromosomes, I was unable to enjoy the simplicity and sappiness o
f Brand New's 2003 album, Deja Entendu, and nothing about their 2006 release really stuck out to me. As I grew older - and mildly wiser - I was able to appreciate the sincerity in their songwriting capabilities. I ended up buying Daisy for a friend, and decided to put it on my itunes in case I ever wanted to take a chance on it. If you were never a fan of Brand New, please forget every biased opinion you have of them and listen to this record. Dark, philosophical, and almost folksy, Daisy is a flower you should definitely pick.

8) New Junk Aesthetic

by Every Time I Die

The Bled disappointed me by not releasing a new album this year, so I had
to search for a metalcore band who would suffice. I was never partial to ETID in the past, but once I heard the opening tracks off New Junk Aesthetic, I decided they were more than sufficient. Though they are not nearly as heavy as most metal bands out there, their raw, southern style easily compensates. If you're having a bad day at work - or at life in general - blast tracks like "For the Record" or "Organ Grinder" to immediately feel at ease... or just punch your boss in the face. Same effect.

7) Fantasies

by Metric

This is bold, but if you are a fan of Radiohead and are curious to hear what they wo uld sound like with an equally crazy and random frontwoman, then check out Metric's latest r elease. One moment you're walking through the jaws of hell, the next you're dancing at a disco club. Clever, scary, seducing, and down right creative, Fantasies is as fantastical as it gets.

6) It's All Happening

by iwrestledabearonce
iwrestledabearonce releases their heavily anticipated debut album properly titled, It's All Happening. If Bjork and Angela Gossow of Arch Enemy had a lovechild she would have the vocalizations of Krysta Cameron. Accompanied by the most sporadic drum
parts, brutal riffs, and electronica programming the world has heard since the Number Twelve, Cameron and company have proved that they a promising future in the metal scene... assuming she doesn't develop vocal nodes first.

5) The Blueprint 3

by Jay-Z

I had always wished Jay-Z stuck to his retirement plan after The Blueprint
2. None of his latter albums were nearly as good as records prior to 2003. The man had already pa ssed his peak, and it was definitely time for someone else to reign as the King of Hip Hop. However, throughout the last couple years, hip hop has been tainted by cheesy hooks, frail beats, and this godforsaken craze called "auto tune." The king had to put a death to it all, thus creating The Blueprint 3. Though he assembled an all-star team of featured artists and strong beat makers, Jay-Z's rhymes still remain the highlight of the only rap album that stuck out to me this year. Clap for 'em. The ruler's back!

4) Octahedron

by The Mars Volta
I have always proclaimed The Mars Volta as the Led Zeppelin of our time. Renowned for their experimental, fast-paced, "operas," the prog-rock duo calmed things down a bit for their fifth studio release, Octahedron. Sounding more similar to Pink Floyd (if Pink Flo
yd was fronted by Geddy Lee) than Zeppelin, TMV describes this year's release as their acoustic albu m. Don't worry Volta fans, Omar can still tear up the guitar.

3) Mean Everything to Nothing

by Manchester Orchestra

Have you ever danced and cried at the same time? Well, thanks to Manchester Orchestra's sophomore album, you can finally experience it! The quintet from Georgia took nearly three years to release a new album, but in the end they exceeded the hype and earned themselves a spot in the top 50 on the
Billboard charts. This radio friendly disc is one of the more memorable albums of the year. If you're going on a road trip, this CD is for you.

2) Beggars

by Thrice
In the last three consecutive years Thrice has released a new album, and each time they surpassed my expectations. The once punk/post-hardcore band have been dramatically changing their sound with every record. Since their 2005 release of Vhe
issu, the group left their major label and decided to undertake a conceptual project, The Alchemy Index, based on the four elements: fire, water, earth, and air. These four, six-track EP's forced Thrice to create a sound for each element, enabling them to expand their musical boundaries. After this process was complete the pressure of writing songs that stayed on-task was over. By now the band had gone through enough musical experiments to finally find their true sound. In result, Beggars was born. I cannot say enough good things about Thrice's musicianship and songwriting proficiency. There is a reason all three of their last albums have reached my top ten list every year. Take a listen and let their art speak for itself.

1) Far

by Regina Spektor

Three years and four producers later, Regina Spektor finally completed the follow up to her successful album, Begin to Hope. The moment I heard she was releasing a new album this year, I began to hope that it would be even half as good as her last. Though it is debatable, I was pleasantly surprised - if not overwhelmed - to hear that Far was equally catchy, soulful, and cute as her other work. Her story telling ability is a talent incomparable to any other artist I have heard to date. Many times when an artist writes songs with deep and serious topics such as religion, self-worth, and politics, they are done so in an explicit manner. Spektor is much more subtle in the sense that she addresses such topics in a whimsical, almost childlike affectation. All in all, her anti-folk style and bluesy, yet perky vocals put her at the top of my list by "far."


This list is solely based on my own opinions and musical taste. I'm curious, what are your favorite albums of 2009?

- Alexander McCurdy

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Friday, December 11, 2009

Save Money

dear my dearest thomas/ december will tell no lies/ and though it brings no promise/ i saw him with my own two eyes/ the rock was moved by father/ with no help from the baffled outside/ believe when i say i was born again today/ but by night i will reach my demise

tomorrow is not coming/ tonight is our final night/ we're counting sheep cuz we'll never sleep/ if morning don't bring sunrise/ how many stars can be torn from the sky/ before we can say goodbye?

nothing lasts forever/ even memories fade to gray/ a man can only endeavor so much/ before he can't hold up the weight

tomorrow is not coming/ tonight is our final night/ we're wiping our faces, but water replaces/ the spot we were trying to dry/ how many tears must one girl cry/ before she can say goodbye?

doubt me/ that's fine/ doubt me/ and i'll try again/ but how many rivers can one man dry/ before he can say goodbye?

- Alexander McCurdy

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Eats Them

on the right side of the bed/ there's a monster in your head/ on this unholy ground he conjures up the hounds/ that surround you with unremitting dread

in the corner of your eye/ waits a ghost of wicked reply/ you can beg, you can plead, but you'll have to concede/ in the end your end draws nigh/ now's the time to say your goodbyes

in the stillness of the night/ there's a wayward shelter in sight/ open up the door if you dare to see more/ of this gruesome and gory plight/ can't escape, though try as you might

if your God don't intervene/ to ward off these vicious fiends/ then soon you'll be laid in your tomb by the shade/ through worlds you'll be caught in between/ until the Devil can be convened

- afm

emo music update

Alex McCurdy is pretty sure he is going to be the next Gavin Castleton, but not in the sense that he will be extremely talented and creative, but rather in the sense that music will consume his life, yet he will never be famous, and in the end he will only write songs with spiteful lyrics about never succeeding.

Friday, November 27, 2009

(Sorry, Arlon, but) This One's Not for You

this wary wood birch/ won't bloom until the spring/ and all its leaves have yet to fall/ you and i/ we still have time to get our coats/ and pick the remnants from their roots/ i will rake them/ bundle them up and take them/ to their new abode/ in the middle of the road

what life is changing here?/ purge the water, dear/ purify my colored mind/ with fallen leaves and stagnant fears/ my only hope is holding onto something real/ but no verity is clear/ at least not here

if you're afraid to love me/ then i'll save you from fear itself/ the unknown truth can't stop me now/ step upon me/ grind my soul beneath your soles/ a million steps can't keep me down/ or plant me in the ground/ without me growing/ into a brand new birch/ with outstretched branches/ for your lances to perch

breathe in and break my lungs/ take our pictures down/ my photograph looks so much better shattered on the ground/ my only hope is holding onto something real/ but i can't feel/ i can't feel!

im heading straight for a breakdown/ i won't be home by nine/ im heading straight out/ so break me down/ because i won't stop trying/ until you're done hiding/ i won't stop trying until you smile

- Alex McCurdy

Thursday, November 26, 2009

you are not the grout that fills me

im not exchanging gifts this year/or balancing any checks/ im at close range with a lift/ i fear my life is a wreck/and much like my check book/ i am unstable/ and unable to get back in check/ so check back in the morning/ if im in the same spot/ give me the push i need/ to move my tush off the floor/ and out the backdoor/ and onto the deck/ and over the rail/ so when i hit the rocky bottom/ it won't look like rock bottom/ only that i fell/ but really/ i FAILED!

- afm

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Scenes We Have Seen from the Silver Screen (complete)

The box awaits a single slate of procreated metaphors depicting when its only friend was locked outside the EXIT door. Swing faster and faster until this disaster is plastered onto the silver screen. The silver line is redefined as I blindly scribble the words you dribbled from Sibyl's prophetic, oracular schemes.

Pull the trigger, girl, but keep the safety on. Get used to the feeling of never getting what you want. 

The box abates from its berated, congregated hosted uproar inflicting them with oxygen - an overdose for the final score. Spill cancerous cancer - defiled enhancers - on dancers dancing through the last scene. The last fight reignites the lightning from the springs of Juturna, so what has Sibyl truly seen?!

Pull the trigger, girl, but keep the safety on. Get used to the feeling of never getting what you want. 

Pins and needles rest on the countertop. Pull the trigger, girl. Keep your pointer on the stop. The rise, the fall. You take it all and move into the liquor shop, but they won't sell you sweets in there, just, "Sweetie, how you doing? Would you like it if I top it off?"

Pull the trigger, girl, but keep the safety on. Get used to the feeling of never getting what you want. 

- Alexander McCurdy

Saturday, November 21, 2009

The Land is Silent, the Hand is Violent (complete)

i'll take you by the river/ we can swim in it/ i'll teach you how to dive/ you can even reach bottom/ im skipping stones and skipping days of work/ but i swear having you is a job itself/ you're gripping sleeves, but slipping off and out to sea/ so if i were you and you were me, you'd be better off/ someone is speaking/ but i can't hear a thing/ someone is drinking/ sinking down to the bottom/ my dearest friend, i think i found a better home/ but if home is/ where the heart is then no wonder im alone/ unlike you and your dripping eyelids, i choose to be on my own/ so sit here until the fishes teach you how to roam/ someone is speaking/ but i can't hear a thing/ someone is drinking/ sinking down to the bottom/ i'll take you by the river/ we can swim in it/ i'll teach you how to dive/ you can even reach bottom

- Alex McCurdy

Thursday, November 19, 2009

FREE DOWNLOADS! :D

Alex%20McCurdyQuantcast

put it on your ijunks :)

- afm

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The Alex Show - Episode 19

close your eyes and tell me, how many fingers am i holding up? two. one for me and one for you. the last two fingers have consisted of the following:
  • potato salad. actual potatoes in lettuce with mixed vegetables and a bitter balsamic
  • the confrontational roach. he glares, but he paralyzes nothing. also, he has perished... and by perished, i mean that he never should have scampered about my leg. i have a deadly scratch attack
  • the office. i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert! i am not jim halpert...
  • being jim halpert. in reality, that kind of witty banter is only tolerable for a good twenty minutes or so. if you continue any further, you're no better than the world's best boss
  • sasafras. i traveled to Africa, Australia (twice), PA, and Boring Land
  • Africa. they serve outstanding coffee here. strong and cheap. nothing like that one mermaid who has been making big bucks by selling stars
  • AUStralia 1. only in my dreams. if we were in Nice, then i wish i was a stone. at least then i would have a chance
  • AUStralia 2. catch up time only to find surprise after surprise (without any expression). no hmmm-ing involved
  • PA. ... is Gay
  • Boring Land. you woke up early on a Saturday morning to open up shop while still snoring. If there be something more then quit living in Bore!
  • Home. if my heart is here then it is no wonder that I am a bum
  • Waltman. "Fuck you so much!"
plenty more fell between the cracks, but i don't plan on getting them back. AUS1 also helped me realize that my world is still spinning, but i am no longer dizzy. in conclusion, there is no word from the south.

- Alex McCurdy

Sunday, November 8, 2009

No Turkey Sandwich for Sleeping Babies!

twenty years ago/ you were on the set/ looking good in your white jacket/ telling all your friends/ at least the two you had/ that you were happy for a second/ speed up the sideshow/ so everybody knows/ that your smile was just an act/ a mere accessory/ to hide that misery/ that you stabbed behind your back... long ago

sixteen years ago/ you gave up your throne/ your crown was made of smooth plastic/ you put the kids to bed/ at least the two you had/ held their hands like a father, monastic/ hush, don't say word/ moving will be deterred/ cuz every movement you make is drastic/ "goodnight, pleasant dreams/ love with all my heart"/ whiskers on my cheek from your chin... long ago

on the TV screen they are playing a brief segment of what i was trying/ not to see/ not to see/ yet i enjoyed the distraction/ cuz every abstraction took me/ further from where i wanted to be/ i enjoyed the distraction/ cuz every abstraction took me/ took me, took me, took me!

if you don't speak then i will rest assured/ when my thumbs are numb and my speech is slurred/ if you can't sink into the ground tonight/ then i was never wrong and you were never right

- Alexander McCurdy

Thursday, November 5, 2009

"The Alex Show" Update

I couldn't become more self-involved if I tried.

CLICK HERE ---> THE ALEX SHOW

- afm

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Alex Show - Episode 18

how can i connect my ideas about thoughtless webs spinning crisscross patterns in my toss'd head? the silky layers spread and reflect like lanterns against mirrored ground all across the membranous town - guiding my feet, forcing them to leap nineteen steps at a time until they fall out of line and out of sync with the thoughts i presumably think. or thought. please understand that the effort to articulate could easily be made if i could simply create, but no thanks to apollo, i have swallowed every slate which once enabled me to sketch or sculpt or paint. now the daintiest of rhymes resemble the faintest of times when my following of readers once considered me a saint. my mouth wears a restraint to hold these thoughts in place in case my internal chatter starts to eternally splatter throughout the web my spider spun. now these run-on sentences can no longer run when their legs are not eight, but fewer than one. the meaning behind the lie is: demeaning refined replies of any time my crooked mind had tried to spit the spider out like the spout full of rain.

ASIDE: but what if my brain is dry?

what if my mind is a drought of good thinking? then why am i sinking if the water is shrinking? one cannot sink in a deep-seated drought no more than a mute can sing or shout. i am no mute, however, so i shout to the spider to flee from my skull, but he is too clever, so deeper he crawls until my thoughts are not thinking of anything at all except what they will catch or what they'll enthrall, but not to absorb, only to survive, so the lessons i learn will not be contrived or devised in the least, instead they will spin like a web from the mouth of spidery twin who looks much like myself but bears nothing within. he just wears my skin and an unsettling grin. flash flash flash spin spin spin hello, alex. let us begin.


- Alexander McCurdy

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

btdkyd (imrpovised)

i hear the call/ ring in my deafened ear/ this signal obscured awakes the sleeping age/ that trapped my mind/ but now that bind is through/ where is the cursor/ that split the earth in two/ i was arranged/ to build this world anew/ this is the time to rebuild what's mine/ this is the final throw/ this is the time to reopen your eyes/ and see what we can bestow/ awaken/ stand up/ and purge the world below/ relinquish/ this rust/ undertake the plateau/ a long time ago/ i once knew the smell of air/ that sense was ripped apart/ from this elusive affair/ buyers beware/ buyers beware/ i will purchase every soul/ you wouldn't dare/ no, you wouldn't dare regain control/ of my form/ hold your ghost between/ have you ever kissed your ghost between/ this is my form/ you can't even ask for your soul

- afm

Saturday, October 31, 2009

cuz this is thriller night!

I miss the days when I was seven, and it was acceptable for me to go around to strangers' houses and pester them until they gave me free candy (with no strings attached). Is there an age limit for trick-or-treating? like an actual age restriction? What's the legality of knocking on a random person's door with an empty pillowcase and demanding treats? When you're a child it is frowned upon to not participate in handing out free goodies, but once you get taller it is frowned upon to request for free goodies. If I go out tonight dressed up in a $70 costume, I better get something out of it!

That's another thing. My friends are dressing up as the cast from Watchmen. One of my buddies is being Rorschach and he actually spent $70 on his costume! The costume entails:
  • a hat
  • a coat
  • gloves
  • black slacks
  • and a mask with an inkblot
Ten bucks says he had the majority of those things at home. All he really needed was a permanent marker and a white sheet to make the mask, so why throw down mad money for such an easily constructed costume? le sigh

One thing about Rorschach's character is that he is definitely bad ass enough to ward off evil spirits. Don't forget people, that is the actual point of dressing up for Halloween: to ward off evil spirits! I'll never understand why people dress up cute/slutty thinking they're getting the job done. C'mon, that's just tantalizing the spirits to pierce through the veil. Be something scary... like a homeless person.

Whatever you do, for the love of God do NOT dress up like Michael Jackson. It is poor form. The man recently died, so for all you know he is one of those evil spirits. I'm not necessarily saying that the King of Pop is demonic in any sense, I'm just pointing out that out of all the days in the year, Halloween would definitely be the night you can't trust Michael Jackson. "Hey, there little boys and girls. Don't you look so cute in your costumes! You want some free candy? It's right inside my pants..."

... too soon?

- afm

Happy Halloween

It's Samhain night. I will dress up as a jack-o-lantern. I will scrape out my insides and carve a smile on my face. Everyone will recognize me. I will look the same as always.

- afm

Friday, October 30, 2009

__________

sometimes the answer is right in front of me... i just refuse to look.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

MUSIC UPDATE!!!!!


Within the last week I was terribly sick, so I took that time to write some new songs (five to be exact). All of their lyrics were written here in this blog. Anytime you see a post where the lines are separated by slashes (/), then it is usually a new song of mine.

I JUST finished recording a new demo version of my last post, "I Put the 'Art' in 'Artificial.'" Like I said, it's a demo, so it's pretty rough around the edges. It is now up for free streaming on my myspace <--- click there

Hope you like it :)

- afm

Monday, October 19, 2009

I Put the "Art" in "Artificial"

i was trying too hard/ the sound of my words didn't match the thought/ of the voices in my head/ they told me genius but i wrote down nonsense instead/ this rusty guitar/ played the notes i didn't feel and my mouth spat out the parts/ to the tunes that best fit/ the buyer, not the writer or the warmth within my heart

my speech was muffled and slurred/ my lips dribbled every word/ so i filled up my cup/ but my unstable hand couldn't hold the contents up/ and these carpet stains are getting old/ yeah, these carpet stains have turned to mold

i bought wood at the store/ so when my words spill to the floor/ they won't leave stains anymore/ just a one-minute-mess, a quick to-do chore/ or the words can soak/ into the boarded earth and poke holes in the oak/ then my words can choke/ all on their own

my speech was muffled and slurred/ my lips mumbled every word/ so the holes were removed/ until the holiest of medias probed my every move/ and this sunken home is getting old/ this sunken home became controlled/ by the watermark of noble mold/ yeah, this empty house has turned cold

so when you come knockin' on my door/ you better bring a hammer/ you better make a clamor, girl/ cuz even though im lying right on the entrance floor/ i swear to you, i don't live here anymore

- afm

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Six by Fourteen

Though you enlighten me,
I thought you would have learned
That you're like a candle,
And all you do is burn
Until you're nothing more
Than solid, melted wax,
Useless facts in return
For a tax on my heart.
Now I'm lost in the dark
And I can't find my tracks.
There is no passage out
or clear route to the start,
So how will I survive
once you swiftly depart?

- afm

Saturday, October 17, 2009

This Isn't Where I Parked My Car

im tired of holding back how i feel/ when the only thing you hold back are your meals/ not the meals that you chew, but the one's you ate up/ when i told you i loved how i loved you so much/ so spit up those feelings/ and revert to the touch/

the pulse/ the frame/ the shape/ the name/ it's all in the same/ it's all in the same/

our relationship is more out of shape than the shape that you're in/ maybe that's why it's not working out/ you're finding new outfits when you should be fitting in/ but your insecure antics are another win, win/ so sell your conviction/ and show a little skin/

the pulse/ the frame/ the shape/ the name/ it's all in the same/ it's all in the same/

you just lost the game

- afm

Merry Larry

Merry Larry - quite contrary -
Would truly care if he'd be carried
Above the ground to sleep so sound
That he cannot hear merry canaries
Sing their cheery merrily tunes, for
Weary Larry, very wary -
Quite contrary to merry Larry -
Cannot sleep once he's been reaped,
So in the ground he must be buried.

Sorry Larry, that must be scary.

- afm

Ma'am Plays Zelda

A lot of time invested in the game! A lot of time invested in the game!

I don't want a blue rupee! There's supposed to be a deku shield there!. No. NOOOOOOO!!!!! I FELL OFF! MOTHERFUCKER! Baby, you made me fall off! I'm going to bite your ear!!!!! No, I almost fell again looking at your stupid status bang!

Try to mess with me again, bat. See what happens!

He's writing down everything I say! it's not even that funny, Alex!

Booo bah boo boo bah boo boo bah boo bah booo... Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow, really guys? Really guys? All over again?! Really? The fuckin bats? NO! FUCK YOU, BATS!

Fuck these fuckin bats! They don't leave me the fuck alone! That's it, I'm not talking... fuck! What's that gray thing doing there?! FUCKIN DAMMIT! Ouch! It hurts all the time! ALL THE TIME HURTING! Open, bitch! Baby, stop! Baby, really? Really?! Ugh. Goddamn ladder! Stop! Baby, I'm really having a hard time and you're not helping!

Baby, I can't focus my sling shot! You need to stop laughing! Your belly is shaking my fuckin controller!

Pa chew! Pahhhh choooo! Moody, moody! AHHH! Got the eye! GOT THE EYE! WOO! WAHHHH HOOOO! Got it, first time, baby! Now that we got that clear, that is where we want to go. Stupid cat. That cat's getting belligerent. That cat's getting nasty. You should hear what Alex said about the penis. Jane made the guacamole.

This platform? I don't trust this (burp) platform... Fuck! FUCK! In the LAVA! In the fuckin lava again! I have been doing all of these levels for nothing?! The platform goes to the top level? Fuckin fuck! Baby, let me see the strategy thing please.

Stop laughing! This has been an hour of struggle, an hour of TRAUMA!

How do you have a bat on fire, babe? How does that even happen?! Fuckin bat! Fuck you, fuck you! DIE! DIE! DIE!

... The bats killed me :(

- ALC

The Alex Show - Episode 17

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

if i see where the eyelash lands, does my wish still come true?
well, that all depends on what you wished for. i wished to go back in time knowing everything i know now. i would be a child again, but with my current mindset. would you stay a child? no, i would grow older, and my brain would develop from its present state. i see. well, in that case your wish will not come true. why not? a wish cannot come true if you tell someone what you wished for. well, balls.

to be continued...

- afm

Friday, October 16, 2009

Three Cheers for Platonic Sleepovers!

If every single syllable was made to be literal/ then you should have reconsidered your place by now/ but just like these rhymes you are merely a line/ that I have written up or simply crossed out/ My lack of regard was never worn hard/ thanks to my scarred fashion and the passion I forge/ If we were ever more than friends from the start/ then you'll never know your lovers till the sex is a chore/ This is the backdoor, baby/ See yourself out/ Sorry if I seem passive every time I pass you by/ but I'll deny your requests with a callous reply/ Sorry if you just realized I'm like all the other guys/ but that tongue in your mouth was never meant for noise/ This is the backdoor, baby/ See yourself out/ Front seat/ windows down/ was the way we messed around/ Loud and clear/ so all could hear/ every sound I made you cheer/ This is the backdoor, baby/ See yourself out

- afm

The Manic Mechanic Refuses to Panic

In the last three weeks/ I have noticed an abundance in animosity/ following yet somehow guiding my every move/ In order to modify this disorder/ my natural moderation must be improved/ Here's the external joint/ causing all the trouble/ See, here/ right below my right elbow/ The doctor looks askance due to this askew bridge over troubled waters/ yet a mask is in use to subdue my consciousness and his overgrowing rue/ Before I can count to ten/ I am awoken again/ by distant echoes/ and foreign friends/ Something is ringing deep in my ear/ wringing my brain of all it can hear/ Memories fleeted have all disappeared/ My blood and vessels have turned into gears/ I am the machine, not the engineer/

but my mission remains clear: Mankind will persevere

- afm

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Mums for Sale

I took my first steps/ around the same time you spoke your first words/ We made our progress/ hand in hand/ Out on those dark nights/ you wouldn't try to go home, you'd just come over/ Between the sheets/ safe as can be/ until the morning after/ but that was when I knew your name/ back when I savored every vow/ That was then and this is now/ so we turned it around/ Now my head starts spinning/ my ears keep bleeding every time I try to listen to the bullshit from your mouth/ That was when I knew your name/ Behind the front door/ lied a sturdy composition to the mess we made/ It stained the floor/ but you would clean it up with a smile on your face/ We'd make a game/ out of every fault and mistake we embraced/ So long as it was ours/ not a single wretched memory would ever be replaced/ but that was when I knew your name/ back when I savored every vow/ That was then and this is now/ so we turned it around/ Now my head starts spinning/ my ears keep bleeding every time I try to listen to the bullshit from your mouth/ That was when I knew your name/ My empty laundry baskets are caskets for the frames/ that shield in every smile that I was ever forced to make/ Presently when I smile/ I am merely forced to fake it/ and wear it to my grave/ Now you never had a name/ for my memory is dry/ Every face just looks the same/ and I'll never know why/ my heart stopped beating/ my ears keep pleading every time I try to listen to a familiar sound/ At least I hurt when you're around/ Now my feelings can't be found

- afm

Monday, October 12, 2009

The Tide (incomplete)

Here's to those long summer nights/ that we wasted away/ alone at the bay/ not knowing where/ we would lay the next day/ We cast our fears to the grave/ every time the tide would rise/ and when our bodies hit the waves/ our hearts were apprised of the love that we made/ As the tide retreated/ our hearts repleted/ and though our feelings have changed/ the memory remains the same/ You had your car/ and I had my pride/ We won't travel far/ to escape this divide

- afm

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Instant Escape

Turbulence (tosses our bands), I call it in.
Tussle your heads (with knives and hands),
And strike upon the dawn.
(If you) tamper with your unopened hands,
Then I won't set your lover free.
Pretend the sand is suffering, (not them).
(Pretend the sand) is sulfur.
(You will cry), "Let me in!"
And I'll let you in, but nowhere
(Lays your radiant) confidence.
Take the rule and surge the fall,
And ask for them to bear my boy.
(I can) taste you, Anne Boleyn.
(Please tell me), what life is this?
What love is this? (Is this a trick)?
(Here's your tussive medicine
For your well-shaven head).
Dead you land (face down in heaven
Swallowed by the sand). "Breathe in!"
(I command as I untie your hands).
"Dead you rest, so breathe again!"

- Alexander McCurdy

Monday, October 5, 2009

Fragments from "An Obscure Signal - Creations"

"In my picture-perfect mind, I drew the outlines of a world made for easy breathing. I obsessed over this sketch: V-90."

"The regiment arose from its seat, uprooted from the cradle of scrap left beneath the Contrivance Corps. This is where the Bod-E lies. This is where my soul resides."

"My makeshift arm fires when a distant alarm resonates through my mind, revolving memory and momentum as bullets meet teeth."

- afm

Monday, September 28, 2009

An Obscure Signal - Creations - pt. II

I was seventeen years old, and stuck in tumultuous times, a poverty-stricken era where the only order was disorder. Everything around me was a calamity, and everything beneath me had been forgotten. The streets had no names, and neither did the people that inhabited them. All that was left was the need to survive, but without the reason to do so. No one bothered to use their mind anymore. The supposed "common sense" we once automatically had became a rarity, and it was as if humanity entirely lost sight of what it once strove for.

To be honest, this was no worse than the world I originally entered. The only breach was that I had a name. I still have one, but the greatest difference was that it once meant something. Perhaps it did not mean anything significant, but it did matter to someone. When I was younger - about a decade before this time - when someone called my name it had purpose and feeling. Regardless of what that purpose or feeling was, there was reason to address me. These times, however, were deviant. In these times, a name served no purpose.

Somewhere along the way, I too lost sight of my ambition. I cannot recollect what the trigger was or exactly when it occurred, but I do remember how it felt when I forgot about my soul. When I used to eat chocolates or other sweets that tickled my taste-buds, an in particular, warm sensation would devour me while I devoured the treat. However, once my soul surrendered, it did not matter what I was consuming, only that I was consuming. I had no appetite for enjoyment, and this loss was no problem solely since the remembrance of needing something sweet had fleeted my system altogether. Much like eating, everything else I did was conducted by my body's automatic nature to carry on. Perseverance was no longer a necessity. A soul retained no promise.

- man

Sunday, September 27, 2009

An Obscure Signal - Creations - pt. I

In the beginning there is only sound. Preceding any other sense - aside from the touch - the human body is equipped with the ability to hear. Even though the sensation of sound and touch occur around the same time, I believe that sound is more influential. The things we hear before we enter this world greatly effect us in numerous ways. We know the articulation of our mother's voice before we see her face. We hear the pitches of music before we know how it is produced. We absorb the intonations of happiness, anger and fear, and we can feel how the body naturally responds to all of these emotions. I have unknowingly utilized this blessing since before I can remember, but the first sound I do recall was on November 14, 2057, when I heard the blaring alarm of an obscure signal.

- man

Thursday, September 24, 2009

this time next sunday

i can't wait to see you there shaking your head
asking where the culprit hid your hair.
i can't wait to see you stumbling about your empty room
pissing your worries away and pissing yourself.
i can't wait to see you searching across your reflection
for something warm to sink your teeth in.
i can't wait to see you screaming down the hallway
knocking down visitors who will never know your name.
i can't wait to see you on your knees begging for your next disease
to fully shave off your existence.
i can't wait to see you tearing apart the flowers
laid above the flowers you're uprooting.
i can't wait to see you finding the conscious answer
only to discover that you're already dead.
i can't wait to see you this time next sunday,
so i can force a cry for the both of us.

i can still smell your skin within my fingernails.

- alex mccurdy

Saturday, September 19, 2009

hollowed hero

disarm the mannequin/ His arms were harlequined/ diverged by the sweat stains/ on your tired, wrinkled chin/ as i undress the coding/ of your artificial skin/ tell me, my molded model/ where should i begin?/ here at the brim/ of my merciful whims/ to cut off the tip/ of your fanciful limbs?/ i think not, my pet/ for your chances seem slim/ if im equipped with a whip/ then your chances are grim/

- alex mccurdy

Monday, September 14, 2009

ctrl + alt + delete

control us and alternate the ending, but don't delete me.

- afm

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Expiration Date

i painted a painting so deeply uninspired
that the still-frame of stars does not glisten or gleam.
the date seems to read, "2,000-expired,"
and the canvas itself is torn at the seams.

if one were to listen to the interlaced work
of the painting i painted with a taste much acquired,
then one might be a clerk who was purposely placed
with sated distaste for the art i transpire.

the only perk from a sale where a handshake's required
is that nothing i paint will be falsely admired.

still, i retire.

- alex mccurdy

Friday, September 4, 2009

Flow

Disclaimer: I wrote these lyrics when I was in 9th grade. It was a song I used to play with the band I was in, but for some random reason, I decided to revive it today. ...Thought I should post it here in case I forget it all together.

I hear the whispers in your room
Plotting all their sinful schemes
Now you're here to ease the gloom
But you'll be lost inside a dream
The early dawn tears apart the night
Bright red flashes out of sight
What's this parting? I don't know
Send my heart out, let it flow

Send my heart, bleed it full
Help me mend this troubled soul
Torn apart in this world
Pour my cup and let it flow
Like a mother to her son
She grows old and must let go
Torn apart in her world
Pour my cup and let it flow

The light in your eyes grows faint
Enduring all the lies I say
They're not enough to desecrate
The fear inside that won't go away
The sleepless night awakes the dawn
As my spirit carries on
What's this parting? I don't know
Send my soul out, let it flow

Send my heart, bleed it full
Help me mend this troubled soul
Torn apart in this world
Pour my cup and let it flow
Like a mother to her son
She grows old and must let go
Torn apart in her world
Pour my cup and let it flow

I bide my time

- Alex McCurdy

Thursday, August 27, 2009

3:33

this is quite uncanny
and perverse for even my own eyes
this is where the culprit lies
this is where her hair resides
a little too disdainful
i stain him once without thinking twice
this is where the culprit hides
this is where her hair resides

someone stained that poor little boy
sundered his outsides in for joy

and though their eyes meet
they'll never find me
they'll never figure me out
they won't find out

- alex mccurdy

Monday, August 17, 2009

The Day When Tomorrow Never Comes

Your secret is sealed,
but my fingers can peel
the "DO NOT TOUCH" label right off from the lid.
Your decrepit smile,
slyly worn and beguiled,
will be torn till your cheeks cannot heal.
Heaven forbid
that Hell is only one step away,
and you're reaching the bottom
of your binding stairway.
There is no time
for counting the mistakes you have made,
for today is the day when tomorrow never comes...
and your secret is coming undone.

I suddenly feel
like your mouth needs some string
to string up the grapevine upon which you swing.
Your internal chatter
will scatter and splatter
like shattered glass dropped from a spurious wing.

Be still, oh be still,
and fill the holes with heavy souls fourfold.
Wreck them on down with a ball and chain,
a gastric vein,
and a telegraph pole.
Heaven foretold
that Hell is only one step away,
and you're reaching the bottom
of your binding stairway.
There is no time
for counting the mistakes you have made,
for today is the day when tomorrow never comes...
and your secret has become undone.

Shelter is never enough to hold us all in
from the depths of the fire.
The higher you climb the longer you'll fall.
All in all, no one is standing tall or standing at all.
Heaven falls to the Hell-mouth
that was only one step away,
and now you've reached the bottom
of your collapsing stairway.
There was no time
for counting the mistakes you had made,
for today is the day when tomorrow never comes...

- Alexander McCurdy

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

"The Alex Show" Episode 16

This is all profoundly pointless.

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

"These lanterns are set up so strangely. Look at their pattern. Oh wait, there is no pattern. My mistake. Still, I don't think this scene is realistic."

"TOY KINGDOM. Does that look real to you? I mean, look at the lettering. I feel like it is taken from a movie or a sitcom or something. Even the backing..."

"... And the toys."

"Yes, exactly."

"It's a set, like everything was set here, placed purposely with reason, but not the reason I had in mind. Someone is trying to please me by applying this realm to my life much in the same as someone tries to make candies taste like fruits. Don't get me wrong, I love Skittles and all, but this avenue tastes artificial. I want the real thing."

BREAK

"But I didn't jump. I didn't jump!"

BREAK

"He directed this, as well."

BREAK

"I cannot leave you. My contract won't let me."

"What about during those times when we're 'not talking?' You leave to star in other shows and films then."

"Well, not under my new contract."

"How long is this contract going to last?"

"Until you die!"

"Hah! You're telling me you can take this set for the rest of your life?"

"Not the rest of mine, just the rest of yours. You needn't worry, though. This contract will last a long time, I promise."

"You promise? You cannot promise that. Accidents can happen. Things can always be changed given the circumstances."

"This contract has no expiration between now and the day you die. I can promise you that!

"NO YOU CANNOT! Much like contracts, promises can be altered. Remember? You once made a promise to me, but we grew older and wiser and we cared about that silly promise less and less. After time, you were merely holding up to that promise out of principle. That is not good enough anymore. You cannot alter my reality to your liking!"

"I don't. I alter your reality to Their liking. Without alterations, we would lose our audience, then how will you exist? How will we exist? How can this show exist? Who or what do you think we are?! Real? No, we are all altered, influenced. Even the world outside of this one is biased by every little thing it comes into contact with. Without influence, without alterations, we are nothing much at all, are we? Besides, your reality is my reality."

"Only until I die."

"Thanks to the last 'The Alex Show' episode, we both know that that is not going to happen."

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

Alex, you are a shitty writer. I don't know why you do it.

- Alexander McCurdy

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

afraid to run

the airways welcome us in

the elevator on the top floor
wants to race down, race down
race me down to the underground
but we will then see
who is fast on their feet
when your cables meet me on the street

im not afraid to run
im only afraid to trip
running is just no fun
if you slip

-afm

Thursday, July 23, 2009

"Bring your dancing shoes. There's a song in my head."

"To the JackieMobile, AWAY!"

Monday, July 20, 2009

"The Alex Show" Episode 15

In my failed attempt to cancel "The Alex Show" last week, I sadly realized it is not my place to cut this show, but the producers. They write the scripts, They hire the actors, They call the shots. The only way I could take matters into my own hands is by cutting myself off from Them - but how can I do this when They can track me wherever I go? These ears are merely microphones for the world to hear the world through me. These eyes are solely used as videocameras for any viewer to visualize life from my point of view. I cannot even imagine what my mind is to Them - hopefully nothing more than a thought inferred or a voice unheard - and I can only pray that my soul not be as wholly as my eyes seem solely, or as merest a joy as the dearest of noises transferred.

To get back to the point, I did come to one final conclusion... and it is just that: one final conclusion. If I were to conclude my own existence, then "The Alex Show" would cease to continue (or at least its ratings would plummet). It would not be like Final Fantasy where it has 87 bagillion sequels. After all, you cannot have the "final" of anything twice, let alone thirteen times. That negates the whole purpose of it being final! You need not worry, though. There are always spin-offs, and if you learned anything from the concept film you should know that there is always something else to watch on television.

Regardless of the incessant alterations They force into my life for Their (and your own) selfish entertainment/fulfillment, I do not think I could ever commit to such a statement. If the only way to get back at someone is to hurt yourself, then no one wins. Besides, the role of a rotting corpse is not for me. I smell far too delicious for that. In conclusion (but not in my conclusion), "The Alex Show" will not be taken off the air on my account. You're fuckin' welcome.

to (irritably) be continued...

- Alexander McCurdy

Saturday, July 18, 2009

This Vast Divide

i wrote/recorded a new song using the words from a blog i posted earlier this week.

you can find it and other songs of mine here: alex mccurdy tunes

hope you dig it

- alex

Thursday, July 16, 2009

the translating process

silence is compounded into mold
and is held closely together
in the weathered impound
of jagged ground
whether or not the weather is hot
moss does not grow on these rocks
but on moist surfaces
bare and cold
before morning rises
and sets in
like dew on the blades
of the nether shade

standstill

words cannot contact walls
so there is no sound
just a hand movement
a profound expression
and the obsession
to understand
and more importantly
be understood

continue

two rocks below the shore
both of equal size and weight
and height and age
do not grow together
but separate
from every whirl of wind
and strike of water
until they are nothing more
than strangers
inflexible
and unmoved by the fact
that they will never know each other again
that they will never know each other before
that they will only know the ball and chain of
squall and grain below the shore

and nothing more
than that

- Alexander McCurdy





this vast divide

how did i reach the top floor of this castle
representing an unrelenting sense of pride?
now bid my dense portrayal within this hassle
off to the curator beneath this vast divide

in your pocket there is a bride
a prize for your mantel for you to dismantle
tonight, tonight, tonight
doctor jekyll, you did not realize
your fire is speckled

with bits of monster hyde
with bits of monster hyde

how did i revel at the devil's desire
to start a flame atop the stove?
i held the match, he blew his nose
and my flaming ego arose
so exposed so exposed

in your pocket there is a bride
a prize for your mantel for you to dismantle
tonight, tonight, tonight
doctor jekyll, you did not realize

your fire is speckled
with bits of monster hyde
with bits of monster hyde


provocation is to tickle
as arousal is to kindle

so show your fake colors
wear them proudly and restrain
from ever climbing up the tower
to where the castle remains
beyond this vast divide
that you cast aside

- Alexander McCurdy

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

all of this time in motion

all of this time in motion
to see us off
the catacombs on walls
are succumbed into the minds of drunks
all of this time in motion
i sink beneath these notions
you better send me off
before i unlock this war upon your world

and straddle down the heads of monks
i am the warden
the self-proclaimed heroine
on the tip of your tongue
in the cradle of your spoon
and by midnight till noon
you'll be gone gone gone
like a baby
three months in
caught on a hanger
gone too soon
all of this time in motion
i fake the songs of june
brought them down to words
spoken yet unheard

by the birds and water loons
so i herd you in like cattle
to escort you into battle
i am the slippery snake
i slither and snape
and rape and rattle

contagious cattle
to bedazzle the devil

who maybe may be
the spawn or baby
hooked from your womb
all of this time in motion
i resided in your tomb
but i was not safe
i was not sound
i was merely consumed


- Alexander McCurdy

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

A Simple Safety Equation

A pedestal rests on the shoulders of a cage, rounded at the top and easily mistaken for a base. One cannot place anything upon it. Any contents will slip right off and under the fail-safe and into the realm of No One Truly Knows. Fail-safe. What a peculiar word. Dissect it, and see it as an oxymoron - unless we are taking it for its actual use: a secondary system to backup the primary system in case of failure. "Better safe than sorry," one might say, but I would not agree. No, safety has a limit, and if one were to make, say... a third backup system, then "safe" would automatically become "paranoid." Fail-paranoid. As stupid as it sounds, that is more like it. So long, oxymoron! More like a poly-moron. It is a simple equation, really:

safe + safe + safe = paranoid

Being cautious keeps you safe, and safe can be good, but paranoia is not as pleasant.

-afm

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Lilac Forest

Safe within the warmth of a white backdrop,
A family of lilacs are drawn black.
Stems are tangled from a bird's eye angle,
And the comforting forest turns its back.

In correlation to the sudden switch,
The light and darkened patterns are reversed,
But the flowers have grown all on their own
In two-dimensional towers dispersed.

How cool is the side which so blackened by
The calm of the night and reach of the sky
To pierce through the eye of the bird who flies
Above the insides of a lantern slide?

Arise from the dirt, young lilacs, transcend!
Surprise the forest, or profess our end.

- Alexander McCurdy


Thursday, June 11, 2009

100 BLOG POSTS!

yeah, after only seven months or so, i have written 100 blog posts. eff!
anyways, one of my good buddies was complaining that i write too much to possibly follow, so i decided to do a Top 10 of 100 List. these are just personal favorites, so if you don't dig 'em, it's all good.

ordered by date, oldest to most recent:

1) "i wish to be fed toasted bread," she said

2) Linguini & the Attack of the Hallow Bears

3) Are S Dee Es D

4) "The Alex Show" Episode 3 pt. I

5) "The Alex Show" Episode 4

6) pick up chicks

7) From Son to Father

8) "The Greatest Warrior Alive" pts. I - IV

9) Fuck "The Alex Show!"

10) within my busty dwelling

- afm

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Sleep is for Prudes!

People constantly rant about how wonderful sleeping is and how terrible it is to be awake. I think the people with this particular outlook are morbid and boring. The concept of sleep is to rejuvenate, replenish, revive, but would it not be a better concept to just never get tired? It is the feeling of weariness that is a unbearable, not being awake. Personally, I would prefer to be conscious 24/7, but unfortunately the mind is legally considered insane after seventeen hours of consciousness, so we are forced to rest (no wonder I write such stupid blogs at night).

Being awake is much more fun and exciting than sleep. I feel like the hours of sleep are hours well wasted. Sleep is eating up my life and all of the things I could be getting done. People continually wish for more hours in their day. Well, I have your solution: sleep less! Yes, that is how we should lead our lives: sleepless. Some people may argue that they thoroughly enjoy sleeping, because they get to dream. Fuck dreams. Dreams are either good or bad, but in the end they are completely unwarranted.


Scenario 1: You have a nightmare. Nightmares are no fun. You wake up scared and possibly sweaty, afraid that it was truly happening. No thanks.

Scenario 2: It is a lovely dream in which everything you wish for comes true. You are approaching the dream's epic climax only to discover that it is not real. Once you are forced to awake and face your lousy reality, you are bummed out of your mind! No thanks.

One cannot control his or her dreams while asleep, but one can get the fuck up and make their dreams (in this case, aspirations) come true. Stop sleeping, people! Sleep is for prudes.

- afm

Monday, June 8, 2009

Three, Two, One, None

Three of us traveled to a family affair.
Two of us had something to drink.
One of us stayed in the car.

Three of us were ready to leave.
Two of us said our goodbyes.
One of us remained silent.

Three of us drove to a far away land - much farther forgotten.
Two of us danced along to the music playing.
One of us sat perfectly still.

Three of us arrived at our (final) destination.
Two of us simultaneously exited the vehicle.
One of us was carried.

Three of us were hot and stopped by the creek.
Two of us threw the other in the water.
One of us went swimming.

Three of us ended up getting our hands wet.
Two of us planted a (dead) tree.
One of us did not help.

Three of us passed a graveyard and entered a wood.
Two of us exited a wood and passed a graveyard.
One of us passed.

Three of us were one.
Two of us are done.
One of us is none.

- Alex McCurdy

Saturday, June 6, 2009

the land is silent. the hand is violent. (extended)

someone is speaking, but i can't hear a thing.
someone is drinking, sinking down to the bottom.

i'll take you by the river, we can swim in it.
i'll teach you how to dive, you can even reach bottom.

- Alex McCurdy

Monday, June 1, 2009

Meat-eater

To be simplistic
I am semi-sadistic.
If you're not good at linguistics
You'll be reduced to a statistic.
The floor is your new niche,
So get on your knees, bitch.
Follow my bids
And swig the cure for your throat's itch.

You're like a carnivore with no teeth,
A fucking whore underneath
All of that shit you feed.
Guile! Guile! Guile!
I'll rip that smutty smile off
And lay it next to your teeth.
You're a fucking whore underneath
All of that shit you eat.

Tear off that bill, that fucking filth
With something darker than the night
In which you wander
With perfect aim to claim a stranger.
You purposely put your life in danger,
And pray the shadows are really beggars
Ready to become exchangers.
Here's a nickel for your time.
Here's one more for your behind.
You're a dime, a dime a dozen,
So far from your Hepburn prime.
They'll make you theirs, I'll make you mine.
JUST GET IN LINE! JUST GET IN LINE!

- afm

ps. THIS one is for you :)






Sunday, May 31, 2009

Existence

If your intent to condemn the buzzing of the bees be nothing more than a false threat, I recommend you fuse a grain of salt with a broomstick betel and a rusty teakettle. Before you decide it be scrappy blunt metal, toss the tarnished salt seed by a wallowing tree to see if the grime and muck will swallow it up and snuggle it deep 'tween roots, dead fruit, and catacomb leaves. From here with caution you must warily proceed as seeds and leaves start to breed and weave. They twist and kiss unable to resist the uplifting of girth from the still, cold earth. In a deadly dance their romance persists until the once mucky grime miraculously climbs from the state of extinct to the state of exist!

- Alexander McCurdy

Saturday, May 23, 2009

"The Alex Show" Episode 14

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

Five five five five five alternate endings, but which one is right? Top shelf, bottom shelf, and three other entities with unknown identities. Two sapphire eyes intertwined with mud and gunk and girth and yuck and yum and yes I like that very much so, so swim between the electric fence and the gears that teeth on skin scraped knees. Rotate, rotate, one false turn will turn the outsides like milk to butter: burning, sweltering, melting skin scraped knees. Churn, churn churning machines: eighteen obscenities. I know these underwater routines have lasted longer than minutes thrice, three three three so how come I breathe? Obstacles-a-plenty, eighteen to twenty, and I cannot remember why I left the rest outside when I'm the one swimming for a prolific tamale when I know there is no ingredient after unraveling the corn covered sheath, but there is a power and a reason to replace the beef. How very neat, but to read is treason and surely I'd sink unless this tamale is retrieved to its not so proper owner, the illustrious lead. Dr. Hidden has returned to claim his name as HE and HIM or The One Whom Shan't Be Named as if HE never came came came camera! No, wait. This is not the right time to contemplate, so turn turn turn back around before real time runs out, and bodies are stuck underground, underwater, under too many mistakes. too late too late too late There is no time. There is no knowing. There is only renounced faith, and a decision to deliver or decide to debate. Give in! Hand over the tamale, sea rover.
Given.
Give in
to HIM!

Mission complete, but not accomplished. Instead I demolished all hope of escaping this spherical, shaky frame. Am I insane? No, merely enslaved to the chain of obscurity with no domain of security or purity proclaimed.

BANG! A shot rings out from hand distance away, but it is HER hand that saves me. red red red SHE saves me from death, but HER yarn unravels to a question marked thread: could HER be HIM all along? Wait, I know this song!

*Red Hands - The Dear Hunter*

ALEX: She plays pretend. Well, I have figured you out, top shelf! I caught on to your trend!

____: But there are four more ways for this story to end.

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

How deceitful, my friend, when you defended my life, but now you cannot lend a helping hand until that hand mends, or is that what you had planned?

to be continued...

- Alexander McCurdy

Friday, May 22, 2009

within my busty dwelling

across the open sea i see the water spawning coral reefs hung up for christmas back in twenty-three at least that is what i am led to believe but i do not really have a clue or an idea that is not preconceived by someone else's calligraphy these letters all seem to be spiraling connected by the a's and b's of immanency purging life itself into my busty dwelling but never telling whether it's the correct spelling or if my forehead is fortune telling a more compelling tale of arks and shells the forecast foretells a casting spell sent above the blue areas of this map the mangy masts and harbored bows have rowed against these seven seas for seven laps but i cannot find the rusted rod to make mankind forever nod in my own name in my facade and now i lost my swimming cap

it was all a trap

- Alexander McCurdy

Sunday, May 17, 2009

a star is born

roll out the red carpet pull out the head star kit cut slit after slit in your once formal dress dress to undress your bare chest will impress the obsessed problematic of the hollywood tar pit
digress
digress
digress
you mangled mess of a farm pet i bet you like harm since they held down your arms in the chickenhearted barn and savored your sweat with each thrusting threat
forget
forget
forget
eighteen thousand dollars more and you still see a whore in the stands of new york's most fashionable stores on the flashy front spread you read what they said, "all of this for nothing more than nightmares galore nightmares galore!"
ignore
ignore
ignore
until you're nothing more than a pitiless pet drowned in debt of forgotten regret

- Alexander McCurdy