Saturday, December 29, 2012
Pinch
Don't mind me
My hands are exactly
Where they're supposed to be
Don't mind me
I'm just tightening the string
To hold you together
To tear you apart
Don't mind me
Your hands are exactly
Where I want them to be
Don't mind me
I'm just making sure there will be
No more loose ends
So we can pretend to fall
Even if we do
I'll play the villain
It won't be hard to fake the truth
When I'm portraying you
You'll play the victim
Reshaping the room
Before I disclose
The memories you entombed.
- afm
My hands are exactly
Where they're supposed to be
Don't mind me
I'm just tightening the string
To hold you together
To tear you apart
Don't mind me
Your hands are exactly
Where I want them to be
Don't mind me
I'm just making sure there will be
No more loose ends
So we can pretend to fall
Even if we do
I'll play the villain
It won't be hard to fake the truth
When I'm portraying you
You'll play the victim
Reshaping the room
Before I disclose
The memories you entombed.
- afm
Friday, December 28, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 45
Sometimes I wonder if she speaks of me. Whether it be to others, to herself or even in her head, I wonder if she ever speaks my name. It is not a selfish thought - it is clearly reciprocated. I am just curious if I had a deep enough effect on someone who deeply affected me.
Somehow, someday I'll be better.
Even if you can't remember my name
I bet you'll be missing me.
Those lyrics meant something else entirely when I wrote them. The idea is the same, but the subject has changed.
It's funny how time can heal all wounds while cutting new ones open.
- afm
Somehow, someday I'll be better.
Even if you can't remember my name
I bet you'll be missing me.
Those lyrics meant something else entirely when I wrote them. The idea is the same, but the subject has changed.
It's funny how time can heal all wounds while cutting new ones open.
- afm
The Alex Show - Episode 44
I fixate on the past all too often. I live with many regrets.
ASIDE: Living with regrets is something I will never regret.
I invent hypothetical situations, what-ifs. I dream.
I am so happy with how far I've come, but still not happy with who I am. "A place is only a place," I always say. "It's the people who make it a home." I am finally starting to learn the weight to that. I always thought the place I was referring to was a physical place, a location. Now I am starting to believe that - though the physicality still applies - it is a mental place, too. If anything, where you stand inside your head is more important than where your feet may land.
Mind
Matter
type of deal.
I have come to terms with the fact that I am unhappy. Unhappiness is rooted in me. No matter how good things get I'll always find something bad to uncover. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the pleasantries. I notice the little things. I venture out and fun is had. Still, I always feel like something is missing. It is now, in this very moment, that I am starting to believe that that thing I am missing is a part of me. It is something that was taken from me, or something I set down once, misplaced and forgot about. Since I don't know what it is, I have no means of obtaining it. Either it will find me, or it won't. Either I'll have it, or I won't, and maybe once I do have it, I will not recognize it as "it," and the world will keep spinning.
The show must go on.
- afm
ASIDE: Living with regrets is something I will never regret.
I invent hypothetical situations, what-ifs. I dream.
I am so happy with how far I've come, but still not happy with who I am. "A place is only a place," I always say. "It's the people who make it a home." I am finally starting to learn the weight to that. I always thought the place I was referring to was a physical place, a location. Now I am starting to believe that - though the physicality still applies - it is a mental place, too. If anything, where you stand inside your head is more important than where your feet may land.
Mind
Matter
type of deal.
I have come to terms with the fact that I am unhappy. Unhappiness is rooted in me. No matter how good things get I'll always find something bad to uncover. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the pleasantries. I notice the little things. I venture out and fun is had. Still, I always feel like something is missing. It is now, in this very moment, that I am starting to believe that that thing I am missing is a part of me. It is something that was taken from me, or something I set down once, misplaced and forgot about. Since I don't know what it is, I have no means of obtaining it. Either it will find me, or it won't. Either I'll have it, or I won't, and maybe once I do have it, I will not recognize it as "it," and the world will keep spinning.
The show must go on.
- afm
I Pooped a Poop
To the tune of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Misérables
There was a time my bum was kind,
When excretions were soft
And the bowl inviting.
There was a time when my behind
Was incredibly strong,
So strong and full of fighting.
There was a time
Then it all went wrong.
I pooped a poop in times gone by
When turds were spry
And not misgiving.
I pooped so steady and so nigh.
I pooped with no thought of forgiving.
Then I was young and unafraid
And poops were made when I was wasted.
There was no bar tab to be paid,
No beer standing,
No wine untasted.
But the Jager came one night,
And my choices were all blunders.
I slept with bottles by my side.
There was a time my bum was kind,
When excretions were soft
And the bowl inviting.
There was a time when my behind
Was incredibly strong,
So strong and full of fighting.
There was a time
Then it all went wrong.
I pooped a poop in times gone by
When turds were spry
And not misgiving.
I pooped so steady and so nigh.
I pooped with no thought of forgiving.
Then I was young and unafraid
And poops were made when I was wasted.
There was no bar tab to be paid,
No beer standing,
No wine untasted.
But the Jager came one night,
And my choices were all blunders.
The shots tore organs apart,
And they turned my poops to pain.
I filled my mouth with whiskey wonders.
I took the bottle, opened wide,
But it was gone, the whiskey drained.
And still I poop when need it be,
And think when they were once like feathers.
But there are poops that cannot be,
Hard and thick as strapping leather.
I had a poop instilled in me
So different from this poop I'm giving,
So different now before whiskey.
Now beer has turned
My poop to goop.
- afm
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Les Misérables movie review
Les Misérables has never been a favorite musical of mine - not to say that I do not consider it exceptionally well-written, only that I am not particularly familiarized with it. I have only seen it a few times, and only performed by schools and amateur local theatres, so unlike most fanatics who consider Les Mis the most powerful musical in history, my opinions won't be nearly as personal, and therefore, not nearly as biased. That being said, though I had no prior intimate connection with Les Mis before today, I feel as if I am Marius and this film is my Cosette: I love it instantly! Well, maybe it's not that serious seeing as my love is not beyond measure or reason, but still, it is more than sheer theatrical excitement, it is rapture at its finest.
First things first, contrary to every single musical ever adapted to the silver screen, all of the singing performances in Les Misérables were recorded live, in real time. This enabled the actors to act/sing at their own pace with the accompaniment actually accompanying them as they would if performed on stage. It made all the difference.
Hugh Jackman was remarkable as the protagonist, Jean Valjean. I am always pleased to see Jackman venturing away from his Wolverine-esque roles and back to... acting. He has always been an incredible actor, and it was refreshing to see him showcase his talents yet again. His singing was spot on. You could genuinely feel every ounce of pain and rage during "What Have I Done?" and the ending high note at "Bring Him Home" was impressive to say the least. Also, I felt the true change in Valjean occurred after bargaining for Cosette and escaping from Javert. Valjean, a man who devoted his life to God, yet always had an inkling for revenge, finally was able to let go once he discovered the love he had for a daughter and his duty as a father. I'm not positive if that whole carriage part is actually in the original musical, but regardless, it was one of my favorite scenes.
If you watch the film this really goes without saying, but if Anne Hathaway doesn't win the Academy Award and the whole lot for Best Supporting Actress awards, I am going to start my own revolution! In the little time her character, Fantine, has on the screen, I - like most people - felt the most for her. I truly cannot critique on her acting and singing separately because much like it should be in any musical role, they were one in the same. Though Hathaway's singing was more than a wonderful surprise, I swiftly forgot about being impressed to being swept away in her entrancing performance. She breathed this role. "I Dreamed a Dream" is the defining song of Les Misérables. I have heard countless renditions of it over the years, some even before I learned it was from this musical. Hathaway's version takes the cake. It takes the whole damn cake. She didn't bother asking if anyone else wanted to try a piece or if they would like to take some home for leftovers. She just took the whole fucking cake. Sorry for randomly getting crude, but I have never been so moved by a musical piece before in my life, and to think that it wasn't even from the theatre? Preposterous. Seriously, she took all of the cake, and she'll take all of the Oscars, too.
I have always been a huge fan of Russell Crowe, but his take on Javert was somewhat disappointing. Sure, he hit the notes, and he acted the part, but I was unshaken by him. Javert is a villain, and Crowe was not nearly nefarious enough to portray such a villain. For starters, I wished his singing tone was lower, darker. Crowe is used to getting the quiet roles that pack an unexpected wallop (Gladiator, A Beautiful Mind), and though Javert is a tightly wound military man, he is also militant. His own self-loating is supposed to resonate in his obsession to capture Valjean. At no point in the film did I feel Crowe's exigency. Every action was monotonous (much like his singing).
Another let down for me was Amanda Seyfried. Though she didn't have much screen time - which was probably a good thing - her role as Cosette is the most essential part of the film. Cosette is supposed to be the one thing in the whole world Valjean and Marius are fighting for, yet Seyfried's take didn't make her at all deserving - both in desire and in acting praise. Don't get me wrong, she was far from terrible. She did do a baller job hitting that soprano1 note. Still, I feel as though they could have casted someone else.
The two hidden gems of the film were Samantha Barks and Eddie Redmayne. I later realized this is what Barks does best, learning that she played Eponine in the 25th Anniversary concert. Her solo, "On My Own," was a surprisingly sad part in the film for me, and her duet with Redmayne was beautifully executed. Speaking of which, I have seen Redmayne recently in the movie, Hick, and thought he was superb, but his role as Marius is bound to take his career to unforeseeable heights. The set of pipes on this kid! He transitions from his chest voice to his falsetto effortlessly in, "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables," another song that I wasn't expecting to rattle me as much as it did. Barks and Redmayne weren't two actors singing or two singers acting. Much like Hathaway and Jackman, they fused the two perfectly.
As far as cinematography, directing, sound effects, and a concluding paragraph goes, fuck that! I'm tired. Cough up the eleven bucks you may or may not have post-holidays and go see this movie already!
ps. For an inside look on how they recorded/shot Les Misérables, click here: Les Mis First Look
First things first, contrary to every single musical ever adapted to the silver screen, all of the singing performances in Les Misérables were recorded live, in real time. This enabled the actors to act/sing at their own pace with the accompaniment actually accompanying them as they would if performed on stage. It made all the difference.
Hugh Jackman was remarkable as the protagonist, Jean Valjean. I am always pleased to see Jackman venturing away from his Wolverine-esque roles and back to... acting. He has always been an incredible actor, and it was refreshing to see him showcase his talents yet again. His singing was spot on. You could genuinely feel every ounce of pain and rage during "What Have I Done?" and the ending high note at "Bring Him Home" was impressive to say the least. Also, I felt the true change in Valjean occurred after bargaining for Cosette and escaping from Javert. Valjean, a man who devoted his life to God, yet always had an inkling for revenge, finally was able to let go once he discovered the love he had for a daughter and his duty as a father. I'm not positive if that whole carriage part is actually in the original musical, but regardless, it was one of my favorite scenes.
If you watch the film this really goes without saying, but if Anne Hathaway doesn't win the Academy Award and the whole lot for Best Supporting Actress awards, I am going to start my own revolution! In the little time her character, Fantine, has on the screen, I - like most people - felt the most for her. I truly cannot critique on her acting and singing separately because much like it should be in any musical role, they were one in the same. Though Hathaway's singing was more than a wonderful surprise, I swiftly forgot about being impressed to being swept away in her entrancing performance. She breathed this role. "I Dreamed a Dream" is the defining song of Les Misérables. I have heard countless renditions of it over the years, some even before I learned it was from this musical. Hathaway's version takes the cake. It takes the whole damn cake. She didn't bother asking if anyone else wanted to try a piece or if they would like to take some home for leftovers. She just took the whole fucking cake. Sorry for randomly getting crude, but I have never been so moved by a musical piece before in my life, and to think that it wasn't even from the theatre? Preposterous. Seriously, she took all of the cake, and she'll take all of the Oscars, too.
I have always been a huge fan of Russell Crowe, but his take on Javert was somewhat disappointing. Sure, he hit the notes, and he acted the part, but I was unshaken by him. Javert is a villain, and Crowe was not nearly nefarious enough to portray such a villain. For starters, I wished his singing tone was lower, darker. Crowe is used to getting the quiet roles that pack an unexpected wallop (Gladiator, A Beautiful Mind), and though Javert is a tightly wound military man, he is also militant. His own self-loating is supposed to resonate in his obsession to capture Valjean. At no point in the film did I feel Crowe's exigency. Every action was monotonous (much like his singing).
Another let down for me was Amanda Seyfried. Though she didn't have much screen time - which was probably a good thing - her role as Cosette is the most essential part of the film. Cosette is supposed to be the one thing in the whole world Valjean and Marius are fighting for, yet Seyfried's take didn't make her at all deserving - both in desire and in acting praise. Don't get me wrong, she was far from terrible. She did do a baller job hitting that soprano1 note. Still, I feel as though they could have casted someone else.
The two hidden gems of the film were Samantha Barks and Eddie Redmayne. I later realized this is what Barks does best, learning that she played Eponine in the 25th Anniversary concert. Her solo, "On My Own," was a surprisingly sad part in the film for me, and her duet with Redmayne was beautifully executed. Speaking of which, I have seen Redmayne recently in the movie, Hick, and thought he was superb, but his role as Marius is bound to take his career to unforeseeable heights. The set of pipes on this kid! He transitions from his chest voice to his falsetto effortlessly in, "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables," another song that I wasn't expecting to rattle me as much as it did. Barks and Redmayne weren't two actors singing or two singers acting. Much like Hathaway and Jackman, they fused the two perfectly.
As far as cinematography, directing, sound effects, and a concluding paragraph goes, fuck that! I'm tired. Cough up the eleven bucks you may or may not have post-holidays and go see this movie already!
ps. For an inside look on how they recorded/shot Les Misérables, click here: Les Mis First Look
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 43
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
ALEX: I have an obsession with Death, but he has such little interest in me.
_____: Patience is a virtue.
ALEX: So in that regard, death is a virtue?
_____: To an extent. Depends on how you look at it, I guess.
ALEX: What do you mean?
_____: Well, what does it mean to be virtuous? You have to have high moral standards, or at least a strong desire to possess them. The act of dying may not be considered righteous, but where it takes you depends on your virtues. We are all waiting for death. Death is the only thing in each of our lives that is certain, so whether we are sitting idly by for it to come and grasp us, or whether we are ignoring its inevitability altogether, it will come. Patience isn't mandatory.
ALEX: So in that regard, death isn't mandatory?
_____: Wait... dammit.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
The illustrious lead has shaken her gown.
The impious queen has rid of her crown.
Set afire the creed, take a step down.
Aspire to plead in the gravest of towns.
Oh, how fortunate your misfortune,
Extorting your contortion.
- afm
You all were there, but only for your amusement.
ALEX: I have an obsession with Death, but he has such little interest in me.
_____: Patience is a virtue.
ALEX: So in that regard, death is a virtue?
_____: To an extent. Depends on how you look at it, I guess.
ALEX: What do you mean?
_____: Well, what does it mean to be virtuous? You have to have high moral standards, or at least a strong desire to possess them. The act of dying may not be considered righteous, but where it takes you depends on your virtues. We are all waiting for death. Death is the only thing in each of our lives that is certain, so whether we are sitting idly by for it to come and grasp us, or whether we are ignoring its inevitability altogether, it will come. Patience isn't mandatory.
ALEX: So in that regard, death isn't mandatory?
_____: Wait... dammit.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
The illustrious lead has shaken her gown.
The impious queen has rid of her crown.
Set afire the creed, take a step down.
Aspire to plead in the gravest of towns.
Oh, how fortunate your misfortune,
Extorting your contortion.
- afm
You all were there, but only for your amusement.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Asian Taxman
"Oh, herro. I am rooking for a Mrs. _______."
"Um, yes. That is me."
"Oh, herro, young rady. We have noticed that you negrected to pay your taxes on time. I am here to correct them."
"Correct my taxes? Oh, thank god! I am so terrible with numbers!"
"I can terr. That's why I am here to correct your taxes!"
"Perfect! I always knew you people were good with math and stuff."
"Risten, rady. I'm just here to correct your taxes."
"Um, yes. That is me."
"Oh, herro, young rady. We have noticed that you negrected to pay your taxes on time. I am here to correct them."
"Correct my taxes? Oh, thank god! I am so terrible with numbers!"
"I can terr. That's why I am here to correct your taxes!"
"Perfect! I always knew you people were good with math and stuff."
"Risten, rady. I'm just here to correct your taxes."
Monday, December 17, 2012
Sleeping with Death pt.I
Fear sets in once you face its existence.
If it stays persistent, embrace your dread.
Bask in your sickness.
Awake and arise with the dead.
If it stays persistent, embrace your dread.
Bask in your sickness.
Awake and arise with the dead.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
SNIRDS!
What if snakes could fly? Would you kill yourself immediately? I would. Could you imagine just walking from your car to your house, and a snake just flies by you? No thanks. "Goddammit, another snake pooped on me today!" Yuck. "Well, you know you need to go to sleep once the snakes start hissing." Also, if snakes could fly, they'd probably eat all the birds and make them extinct, or WORSE! What if snakes and birds started mating, creating the most horrifying creature of all: SNIRDS! No! God help us! THE SNIRDS ARE HERE!
Saturday, December 8, 2012
On Lima Beans
"Would you like a midnight snack?"
"Oh yeah, just make a bowl of lima beans please!"
No. No one would ever want that. Ever.
All those years as a child I thought I hated mixed vegetables. False. I just hated lima beans. Whenever I get those bags of mixed vegetables, I always take out each and every lima bean, so no one has to eat one. I wouldn't wish a lima bean upon my greatest enemy. No on deserves that kind of cruelty. Also, in the phonetic alphabet, is it Lima or lima? Because Lima, Peru isn't very American, but then again neither are lima beans - since they are clearly terrorists... terrorizing my tastebuds and all. Seriously, I think it is our duty to take a stand against the lima bean. Perhaps we should take a national poll determining the future of their existence, at least in the mixed vegetable category. Sure, if you decide to go out and buy a bag of lima beans for your own sadomasochistic needs then that's fine, but it doesn't mean that the rest of us should have to suffer. Who's with me?!
Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! Death to Lima beans! ...
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 42
There is always a level of innocence when it comes to curiosity.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
ALEX: Hi.
_____: Um... hi.
ALEX: How are you?
_____: Can we skip this part?
ALEX: Which part?
_____: The part where we pretend.
ALEX: I'm serious. I just wanted to know how you were - what you've been up to.
_____: I'm fine. I'm always fine.
ALEX: You don't sound fine. You sound... flustered.
_____: Is there anything you need?
ALEX: Oxygen and fluids, namely.
_____: Is there anything you need from me?
ALEX: A straight answer would be nice.
_____: Listen, I can't do this. I mean, I can, but I won't. It's not fair to me. It's not fair to either of us.
ALEX: Well, I'm sorry. I was in a particularly good mood, and it made me wonder if you were in a good mood, too. Not every sporadic call has to be the end result of a bad day or a hopeless feeling.
_____: Well, those are the calls I'm here for. Everything else can be remitted elsewhere.
ALEX: I thought you said we would be able to do this one day.
_____: I used to believe that, I truly did, and maybe one day we shall, but so long as I still... I just can't.
ALEX: Still what?!
_____: Please don't yell at me.
ALEX: I wasn't... I wasn't yelling at you. I was just...
_____: And please don't tell me you were yelling at the situation.
ALEX: Okay. I'm sorry. When then?
_____: When I'm ready. When I can hear your voice without remembering what it used to tell me. When I can see your face without remembering how it used to look upon me. When I can be with you without remembering what it was like to be with you. Then we can try to do this.
ALEX: What are we talking, months? Years? Centuries?!
_____: It's not something that I can measure, Alex! They said I needed time. They said time heals all wounds. I don't want more time. I just want to forget.
ALEX: They also said repenting for your sins would dismiss them, but I will not repent from loving you. Loving you was never a sin. It cannot be forgiven or forgotten.
_____: Why do you say things like that to me?
ALEX: What, the truth?
_____: Just because the truth is known doesn't mean it has to be said. For someone who claims to have loved me, you clearly have the opposite intention.
ALEX: You act like I don't even have a heart.
_____: Probably on account of you acting so heartless.
ALEX: I still have a heart, _____. I know how to use it, and more importantly, it knows how to use me.
_____: It knows how to use me, too.
(Click)
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
Curiosity killed the cat.
- afm
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
ALEX: Hi.
_____: Um... hi.
ALEX: How are you?
_____: Can we skip this part?
ALEX: Which part?
_____: The part where we pretend.
ALEX: I'm serious. I just wanted to know how you were - what you've been up to.
_____: I'm fine. I'm always fine.
ALEX: You don't sound fine. You sound... flustered.
_____: Is there anything you need?
ALEX: Oxygen and fluids, namely.
_____: Is there anything you need from me?
ALEX: A straight answer would be nice.
_____: Listen, I can't do this. I mean, I can, but I won't. It's not fair to me. It's not fair to either of us.
ALEX: Well, I'm sorry. I was in a particularly good mood, and it made me wonder if you were in a good mood, too. Not every sporadic call has to be the end result of a bad day or a hopeless feeling.
_____: Well, those are the calls I'm here for. Everything else can be remitted elsewhere.
ALEX: I thought you said we would be able to do this one day.
_____: I used to believe that, I truly did, and maybe one day we shall, but so long as I still... I just can't.
ALEX: Still what?!
_____: Please don't yell at me.
ALEX: I wasn't... I wasn't yelling at you. I was just...
_____: And please don't tell me you were yelling at the situation.
ALEX: Okay. I'm sorry. When then?
_____: When I'm ready. When I can hear your voice without remembering what it used to tell me. When I can see your face without remembering how it used to look upon me. When I can be with you without remembering what it was like to be with you. Then we can try to do this.
ALEX: What are we talking, months? Years? Centuries?!
_____: It's not something that I can measure, Alex! They said I needed time. They said time heals all wounds. I don't want more time. I just want to forget.
ALEX: They also said repenting for your sins would dismiss them, but I will not repent from loving you. Loving you was never a sin. It cannot be forgiven or forgotten.
_____: Why do you say things like that to me?
ALEX: What, the truth?
_____: Just because the truth is known doesn't mean it has to be said. For someone who claims to have loved me, you clearly have the opposite intention.
ALEX: You act like I don't even have a heart.
_____: Probably on account of you acting so heartless.
ALEX: I still have a heart, _____. I know how to use it, and more importantly, it knows how to use me.
_____: It knows how to use me, too.
(Click)
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
Curiosity killed the cat.
- afm
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Servitude
Commentating all the actions of the robbers in their mansions -
Look how prettily they sit, while you're working in the pits -
You keep on digging to find solace, but no basis is made flawless.
The hand that feeds will never bleed if you've been biting for centuries.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
Reverting back to what you know
Doesn't comfort the ever growing pain of servicing
And bargaining.
If what you reap is what you sow,
Then by God you must dig up a million holes,
And sell your soul
Only for a chance
To hold something that is your own.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You are begging to be saved,
But you can't have the life you crave.
Excavate your hands,
And notice that the hole you can't get out of
Was dug by them.
The dirt under your fingernails;
Your tired limbs have all but failed.
But you're too far down
To climb back out.
There's just one way to go from now.
Down, down, down.
And maybe you will reach the other end,
Or maybe you will only descend.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You don't want the life you saved,
So keep digging your grave.
Look how prettily they sit, while you're working in the pits -
You keep on digging to find solace, but no basis is made flawless.
The hand that feeds will never bleed if you've been biting for centuries.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
Reverting back to what you know
Doesn't comfort the ever growing pain of servicing
And bargaining.
If what you reap is what you sow,
Then by God you must dig up a million holes,
And sell your soul
Only for a chance
To hold something that is your own.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You are begging to be saved,
But you can't have the life you crave.
Excavate your hands,
And notice that the hole you can't get out of
Was dug by them.
The dirt under your fingernails;
Your tired limbs have all but failed.
But you're too far down
To climb back out.
There's just one way to go from now.
Down, down, down.
And maybe you will reach the other end,
Or maybe you will only descend.
Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You don't want the life you saved,
So keep digging your grave.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
S.W.
For countless nights I ran for countless miles in fear that someone - or something - was in pursuit of me.
Suspended in time, suspended in my own denial I misconstrued the chase.
I made up the place, the scenery.
"Forgive me, I'm weak. Forget what you feared in me," cried the voice calling out from my feet.
"Forget what you seek, I am the shadow beneath."
All along it was my shadow, but unlike yours it did not follow,
But instead took me to your bed where the crows were picking at your reddened rosary.
A shadow impeding, the crows keep feeding.
While history repeats, I'll scatter the ashes.
I'm faking sleep while time elapses.
Give us this day our morning masses.
The mourning can wait as the body relapses.
"And I don't want to be another stranger" a stranger in your vacant eyes
"Cuz if it's meant to be, then the love we savor," will be replaced with our lies
"And you can look at me, and say that I saved her,
But I'm no angel, I'm just another staple. I'm just another staple."
To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once considered an idol.
While you're staring back into hollowed eyes,
I will detract from his disguise.
The surface lacks a certain luster,
A certain mystery no god can muster.
I've stripped the outsides, I know where the truth hides.
For countless nights I chased your shadow
In hopes that mine would shortly follow,
But all I found was a hollow man
With a hollowed chest laid to rest,
Laid to rest.
Lay to rest his head.
His head is heavy with regret,
And my hands are a close second.
I don't sleep much these days.
To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once so gladly feared.
Your father is sleeping, enjoy the reaping.
Suspended in time, suspended in my own denial I misconstrued the chase.
I made up the place, the scenery.
"Forgive me, I'm weak. Forget what you feared in me," cried the voice calling out from my feet.
"Forget what you seek, I am the shadow beneath."
All along it was my shadow, but unlike yours it did not follow,
But instead took me to your bed where the crows were picking at your reddened rosary.
A shadow impeding, the crows keep feeding.
While history repeats, I'll scatter the ashes.
I'm faking sleep while time elapses.
Give us this day our morning masses.
The mourning can wait as the body relapses.
"And I don't want to be another stranger" a stranger in your vacant eyes
"Cuz if it's meant to be, then the love we savor," will be replaced with our lies
"And you can look at me, and say that I saved her,
But I'm no angel, I'm just another staple. I'm just another staple."
To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once considered an idol.
While you're staring back into hollowed eyes,
I will detract from his disguise.
The surface lacks a certain luster,
A certain mystery no god can muster.
I've stripped the outsides, I know where the truth hides.
For countless nights I chased your shadow
In hopes that mine would shortly follow,
But all I found was a hollow man
With a hollowed chest laid to rest,
Laid to rest.
Lay to rest his head.
His head is heavy with regret,
And my hands are a close second.
I don't sleep much these days.
To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once so gladly feared.
Your father is sleeping, enjoy the reaping.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 41
Vicarious happiness is not true happiness. Sometimes it is necessary to be selfish.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Reflectors
You can't crack a perfect hole in the pavement.
You can't build a city out of debris.
You can't be a captor to my enslavement
Without throwing rusted chains at my feet,
But you see through me.
You see through me.
You see through every little lie and my deceit,
You see through every loving gesture I've faked.
You can't shake out all the dust from the backseat
Without keeping all the dead men awake.
Yeah, you see through me.
You see through me.
Don't question the words I'm not telling.
You can't purchase the guilt I'm not selling.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
You can't crack a perfect hole in the pavement.
You can't build a city out of debris.
You can't be a captor to my enslavement
Without throwing rusted chains at my feet,
But you see through me.
You see through me.
Don't question the words I'm not telling.
You can't purchase the guilt I'm not selling.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
Standing there, perched atop your kill.
Standing there, perfectly still.
Standing there, perched atop your kill.
You lost your thirst.
You lost the thrill.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
You can't build a city out of debris.
You can't be a captor to my enslavement
Without throwing rusted chains at my feet,
But you see through me.
You see through me.
You see through every little lie and my deceit,
You see through every loving gesture I've faked.
You can't shake out all the dust from the backseat
Without keeping all the dead men awake.
Yeah, you see through me.
You see through me.
Don't question the words I'm not telling.
You can't purchase the guilt I'm not selling.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
You can't crack a perfect hole in the pavement.
You can't build a city out of debris.
You can't be a captor to my enslavement
Without throwing rusted chains at my feet,
But you see through me.
You see through me.
Don't question the words I'm not telling.
You can't purchase the guilt I'm not selling.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
Standing there, perched atop your kill.
Standing there, perfectly still.
Standing there, perched atop your kill.
You lost your thirst.
You lost the thrill.
All along you've been convinced
That you're a maiden, I'm your prince,
But now you know it's all pretend.
It was only an act to trap you in the end.
Stagnant Hearts
I tried to hold tight, but she slipped right through my fingers.
I tried to forfeit this love, but still it lingers.
It's still bringing me up and down and up again.
It's a fight that I might never win.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
I tried to hold tight, but she slipped right through the holes.
I tried to do right, but I lost sight of my goals.
It's still bringing me up and down and up again.
It's a fight that I might never win.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
You can sit, you can wait for brighter days.
I'll admit that the weight of this rain can derogate,
But sometimes it needs to.
I tried to hold tight, but she slipped right through my fingers.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
I tried to forfeit this love, but still it lingers.
It's still bringing me up and down and up again.
It's a fight that I might never win.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
I tried to hold tight, but she slipped right through the holes.
I tried to do right, but I lost sight of my goals.
It's still bringing me up and down and up again.
It's a fight that I might never win.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
You can sit, you can wait for brighter days.
I'll admit that the weight of this rain can derogate,
But sometimes it needs to.
I tried to hold tight, but she slipped right through my fingers.
But honestly, why would I succumb
To a humdrum life with nothing but the sun?
Stagnant hearts need to run.
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes (it needs to).
It needs to rain sometimes.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Remain Seated
Sitting in a chair/ the blare from the sun/ burns in a flare/ Despair streams over me/ I cannot breathe/ Laughter in the air is rare in this place/ compared to the dame whose face and hair are fair/ She says to me/ This will only hurt for a moment/ Let me help ease the pain/ You'd rather take the twinge/ the throe/ Your mouth will bleed/ you know this/ but it's what you're paying for/ so take the throe/ the twinge/
I've grown weak/ I cannot talk/ I've tried to speak/ but my body is numb/
All the things I've done/ have come to this moment/ Holding onto folded arms/ Desperate/ This will only hurt for a moment/ Let me help ease the pain/ You'd rather take the twinge/ the throe/ Your mouth will bleed/ you know this/ but it's what you're paying for/ so take the throe/ the twinge/
I've grown weak/ I cannot talk/ I've tried to speak/ but my body is numb/
I've grown weak/ I cannot talk/ I've tried to speak/ but my body is numb/
All the things I've done/ have come to this moment/ Holding onto folded arms/ Desperate/ This will only hurt for a moment/ Let me help ease the pain/ You'd rather take the twinge/ the throe/ Your mouth will bleed/ you know this/ but it's what you're paying for/ so take the throe/ the twinge/
I've grown weak/ I cannot talk/ I've tried to speak/ but my body is numb/
Saturday, July 21, 2012
The Alex Show - 39
When you live amongst the shadows, you adapt to their form. Darkness encompasses you. It becomes your life-force, your oxygen. Without darkness you are nothing.
ASIDE: A peculiar thought considering that the absence of something is nothing. However, within my born days, I have learned that "nothing" is far more eminent than most "somethings."
I have lived amongst the shadows, and I can tell you that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. The faintest glimpse of light is only a false hope, for all it does is blind; the faintest sound, blaring. The sense of touch, however, is unparalleled. It awakens me, and transmits my shadow into a true and tangible form: a wall-clinger. It is here that I can make contact. It is here that I can act upon what the shadows have taught me: the only veritable way to defeat the darkness is to embrace it entirely. And I must say, the pupil has become the master.
In every respect, I am now the world's deepest dread. I am now what you all must live amongst. I am your reckoning. I am the darkness.
- afm
ASIDE: A peculiar thought considering that the absence of something is nothing. However, within my born days, I have learned that "nothing" is far more eminent than most "somethings."
I have lived amongst the shadows, and I can tell you that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. The faintest glimpse of light is only a false hope, for all it does is blind; the faintest sound, blaring. The sense of touch, however, is unparalleled. It awakens me, and transmits my shadow into a true and tangible form: a wall-clinger. It is here that I can make contact. It is here that I can act upon what the shadows have taught me: the only veritable way to defeat the darkness is to embrace it entirely. And I must say, the pupil has become the master.
In every respect, I am now the world's deepest dread. I am now what you all must live amongst. I am your reckoning. I am the darkness.
- afm
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Two Bottles of Cola with Wonder Woman in the Middle
I've watched this scene play out/ again and again in my head/ and it always ends the same/ The decrepit victim/ holding his head in his hands/ Where should I begin/ The unusual suspects/ have all been placed/ in an orderly line/ outside of the station/ Count down from 1 to 10/ Where should I begin/ if the start of the trail is linked to the destination/
I've watched these buildings burn/ I've watched these walls turn red/ Consumed by the flames/ of the innocent/ When does fear set in/ The unusual suspects/ have all been spent/ wasted in alleys, buried in the cement/ Count down from 1 to 10/ Fear will set in/ once you open your eyes and recognize its existence/
Count down/ Count down/ Count down/ Count down/ And once you hit zero/ awake and arise with the dead/
There's nothing more dangerous than desperation/ There's nothing more dangerous than disputation/ with me/
- afm
I've watched these buildings burn/ I've watched these walls turn red/ Consumed by the flames/ of the innocent/ When does fear set in/ The unusual suspects/ have all been spent/ wasted in alleys, buried in the cement/ Count down from 1 to 10/ Fear will set in/ once you open your eyes and recognize its existence/
Count down/ Count down/ Count down/ Count down/ And once you hit zero/ awake and arise with the dead/
There's nothing more dangerous than desperation/ There's nothing more dangerous than disputation/ with me/
- afm
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Greatest Piece of Fiction (That I Have Ever Read)
Time stands still for a moment short.
I remember what was said on that September night.
Don't go down, for the spate won't fall
Till September turns to blistering red October skies.
The colony is tapering out like a fire,
But soon it will desist.
In time it will desist.
The movement of malformed machines
Take back the mantle of steel.
Once a cop, now a sheep.
Once on top, now beneath
The rubble of the colony.
Once a God - a machine -
Now a cot made for sleep
Like a dynasty collapsing to ruins.
The sun chases your smile,
But your mouth is always closed.
The abyss which you created
Moves further past your nose.
I will build ladders to towers to unknown dimensions
If only to see you nod,
But you're just a pawn used to aspire,
And you're still as fake as God.
You're just a pawn used to aspire,
And you're still fake as God.
- afm
circa 2008
I remember what was said on that September night.
Don't go down, for the spate won't fall
Till September turns to blistering red October skies.
The colony is tapering out like a fire,
But soon it will desist.
In time it will desist.
The movement of malformed machines
Take back the mantle of steel.
Time stands still for a moment short.
I remember what was said on that September night.
Don't go down, for the spate won't fall
Till September turns to blistering red October skies.
The colony is tapering out like a fire,
But soon it will desist.
In time it will desist.
The movement of malformed machines
The movement of malformed machines
Take back the mantle of steel.
Once a cop, now a sheep.
Once on top, now beneath
The rubble of the colony.
Once a God - a machine -
Now a cot made for sleep
Like a dynasty collapsing to ruins.
The sun chases your smile,
But your mouth is always closed.
The abyss which you created
Moves further past your nose.
I will build ladders to towers to unknown dimensions
If only to see you nod,
But you're just a pawn used to aspire,
And you're still as fake as God.
You're just a pawn used to aspire,
And you're still fake as God.
- afm
circa 2008
The Alex Show - Episode 38
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
_______: It's not what you say, it's what you don't say.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
You asked God why,
And waited for a sign,
So I struck you like lightning,
But all you did was burn.
- afm
_______: It's not what you say, it's what you don't say.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
You asked God why,
And waited for a sign,
So I struck you like lightning,
But all you did was burn.
- afm
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Red Cloud
Sleep.
Sleep away your days.
Buried in your daze,
You'll dance around this sphere
Cornered here
In the Earth
Where your thoughts
Are dispersed
Amongst the rulers
Of a mortal birth.
You'll dance around this sphere,
Disregarding fear
And the world above.
You'll live a life within a lie.
You'll reach your peak.
You can't deny
The fall.
It will catch you.
It will catch you.
- afm
Sleep away your days.
Buried in your daze,
You'll dance around this sphere
Cornered here
In the Earth
Where your thoughts
Are dispersed
Amongst the rulers
Of a mortal birth.
You'll dance around this sphere,
Disregarding fear
And the world above.
You'll live a life within a lie.
You'll reach your peak.
You can't deny
The fall.
It will catch you.
It will catch you.
- afm
You Should Have Kissed Her When You Had the Chance
Every time I test the line between redemption and fate/ I find myself perched upon the shelf of deceit/ Tempting decapitated thoughts of resurrection/ to the current world currently on repeat/ I bet you never tasted destruction/ I bet you anticipated the longing/ There is no further argument/ There is no plea beyond forgiveness/ to escalate you to a clearer state/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I retain this plague/ I cherish it/
Every time I test the line between the fallen and the brave/ the ones standing are baring down on their own graves/ Resurrection is staring Death in the face/ Who will accomplish the art/ Who will shelter the decaying/ while the Giver's left slaying the awakened/ the forsaken/ I forsake thee/ I blame thee for loving the chase/ Run/ Run posthaste/
Here lies the untold tales/ of Franklin Alexander/ the commercing commander/ Here lies the untold tale/ of Franklin Alexander/ once a father/ once a maker/ now a prisoner to his own cell/ that he built/
I know the end route to these cells/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Disregard your former plan/ to escape/ I know the end route to this Hell/ this Hell you made/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Excavate me from your plans to betray/ one's own self/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I retain this plague/ I cherish it
- afm
Every time I test the line between the fallen and the brave/ the ones standing are baring down on their own graves/ Resurrection is staring Death in the face/ Who will accomplish the art/ Who will shelter the decaying/ while the Giver's left slaying the awakened/ the forsaken/ I forsake thee/ I blame thee for loving the chase/ Run/ Run posthaste/
Here lies the untold tales/ of Franklin Alexander/ the commercing commander/ Here lies the untold tale/ of Franklin Alexander/ once a father/ once a maker/ now a prisoner to his own cell/ that he built/
I know the end route to these cells/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Disregard your former plan/ to escape/ I know the end route to this Hell/ this Hell you made/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Excavate me from your plans to betray/ one's own self/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I retain this plague/ I cherish it
- afm
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Devilbiss
Slain is the firstborn,
Depraved by his greed.
You can beg for mercy,
But the crowds won't intervene.
Burning man, my brother,
I stand amongst the flames.
You can sell my freedom,
But you'll never take my name.
A crown for a king.
I tried to save you from yourself,
But unwilling minds tend to collide with tragedy.
The hunter is the hunted.
The hunter has become the damned.
I tried to save you from yourself,
To push aside your selfish pride and vanity.
You can beg for mercy,
But the crowds won't intervene.
Burning man, my brother,
I stand amongst the flames.
You can sell my freedom,
But you'll never take my name.
A crown for a king.
I tried to save you from yourself,
But unwilling minds tend to collide with tragedy.
The hunter is the hunted.
The hunter has become the damned.
I tried to save you from yourself,
To push aside your selfish pride and vanity.
Slain is the traitor,
Basking in her deceit.
Call this a travesty.
My crew won't intervene.
Burning man, my brother,
The wicked meet your keep.
Though you burn my body,
I'll rise not one, but three.
A crown for a queen.
Not stopping at the edge,
I'll cross the sea to find new land.
The fleet has fled, but I'll be home someday.
Dare test my will to take command.
I'll storm the keep and claim my throne someday.
I'll cross the sea to find new land.
The fleet has fled, but I'll be home someday.
Dare test my will to take command.
I'll storm the keep and claim my throne someday.
I am free form tyranny,
Only to be grounded by my own inabilities,
But one day I'll fly above them all.
The seas will part, their kingdoms will fall.
Only to be grounded by my own inabilities,
But one day I'll fly above them all.
The seas will part, their kingdoms will fall.
I tried to save you from yourself,
But a ruthless bride tends to deny her enemies.
Not stopping at the edge,
I'll cross the sea to find new land.
The fleet has fled, but I'll be home someday.
Dare test my will to take command.
I'll storm the keep and claim my throne someday.
- afm
- afm
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 37
The Second View
Needless to say,
Insert a clever line here.
Another one here,
And we'll finish it up with a play on words,
Ooooo and make it rhyme!
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
Regardless of how I feel at the end of each day, I think of myself from an outside perspective. A secondhand view can be enlightening, yet severely disappointing at times. I do not do this frequently - or so I try - but when I do, I come to the misled realization that nothing is exactly as I see it. Whether I feel accomplished or unfavorable, the substantiality of my life is somewhat mundane to others. I am not saying everyone on the outside believes my existence to be meaningless, I am only recognizing the fact that life itself is a commonplace thing, and that my life is no different.
I must take a moment aside to address that this evaluation is by no means a disheartened cry for help. It is more of a personal epiphany that my life is not as big as I make it out to be. The phrase "worry yourself to death" perfectly applies here. Sure, the act of worrying will not physically kill us, but it would be a waste of life to spend the rest of our days in a constant state of worriment. On the other hand, that is not permission to be careless. Though it is is hard to balance cautiousness and carelessness, it must be attempted. Not every spill will result with a fatal head injury. Sometimes we just slip and clean up the mess. Sometimes.
This post started as new ideas for song lyrics. Then it turned into a greater idea. Now it has become more of a contradictory rant, so I will get to the point. Life is a gift. Unlike other gifts we are given, there is no receipt. Unlike other gifts we are given, it cannot be exchanged for a better one. Unlike other gifts we are given, if we do not take the greatest care of it, it will not last. Like all gifts we are given, it can be broken, it can be lost, and it can be forgotten. Do not worry as much about the gifts of others. Life is not a second view.
- afm
Friday, May 4, 2012
Haunting Elegance
Your words are inviting,
Warm and eloquent.
Deciphering each phrase-
Coined by malaise-
Can strip that warmth, desolate.
You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Turn your shoulder.
Feign to want me.
There's no room here
For fickle friends.
Your words are hanging,
Loose and decadent.
Discussing every title-
Regardless of how vital-
Can fuel my ever swaying temperament.
You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Hatred smoldered
Against my body.
There might be room here
For fervid friends.
Lift the pen,
And draw the lines.
Scribble out
Your final title.
Your final
Title.
There's no room here
To make amends.
I'll make your end.
- afm
Warm and eloquent.
Deciphering each phrase-
Coined by malaise-
Can strip that warmth, desolate.
You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Turn your shoulder.
Feign to want me.
There's no room here
For fickle friends.
Your words are hanging,
Loose and decadent.
Discussing every title-
Regardless of how vital-
Can fuel my ever swaying temperament.
You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Hatred smoldered
Against my body.
There might be room here
For fervid friends.
Lift the pen,
And draw the lines.
Scribble out
Your final title.
Your final
Title.
There's no room here
To make amends.
I'll make your end.
- afm
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Hollow Bodied Organisms
I dismembered all members of my family.
I remembered the act of forgetting.
I dismembered the concept of memory.
No home is safe or sound.
No home is safe or sound.
I divided brittle pigments from their bones.
I guided my hand so steadily.
I divided the monarchs from their thrones.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.
Callous!
I could care less if I was careless.
The thought will be abandoned,
The prosecution stranded.
Malice!
You could care less if I confess.
Raise your fist and strike your gavel.
Chase my body with a scalpel.
Success! Success!
Regress! Regress!
I dismembered all members of my family.
I sit high upon my horse, looking down without remorse.
I dismembered the concept of forgiving.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.
- afm
I remembered the act of forgetting.
I dismembered the concept of memory.
No home is safe or sound.
No home is safe or sound.
I divided brittle pigments from their bones.
I guided my hand so steadily.
I divided the monarchs from their thrones.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.
Callous!
I could care less if I was careless.
The thought will be abandoned,
The prosecution stranded.
Malice!
You could care less if I confess.
Raise your fist and strike your gavel.
Chase my body with a scalpel.
Success! Success!
Regress! Regress!
I dismembered all members of my family.
I sit high upon my horse, looking down without remorse.
I dismembered the concept of forgiving.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.
- afm
The Alex Show - Episode 36
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
Alex: It amazes me how easy it is to forget, whether we want to or not.
____: What do you mean?
Alex: You know, like an impactful conversation you have had with the most important of persons, a conversation that has sculpted your life and changed your shape, yet over time we forget about the conversation itself. We forget about the sculptor and the effort they made to mold you into something different. Upon forgetting we start believing that there never was a sculptor, and that the sculpture was created all on its own.
____: You speak of creating a sculpture when it sounds more like you are describing its destruction. How ironic.
Alex: Yes, it is peculiar how destruction is the foundation to creation.
____: Again, you will have to elaborate.
Alex: Well, you could apply it to anything, really. Go back as far as Adam in the garden. God may have created man, but it was man's self-destruction that created man as a species. That is when creation was truly completed: when destruction began.
____: And I believe it is safe to assume you were not originally talking about Genesis. Perhaps something more personal?
Alex: I should just continue ranting without pause. Your questions hold no more curiosity or concern than the silence of a psychiatrist.
____: How does that make you feel?
Alex: Hah! You're funny. But yes, I was referring to something of more personal interest.
____: Please continue.
Alex: As you wish, doctor. Anyways, I've just been wondering - as I often do - what is the use of conversing? We manipulate words, we select the ones we want to hear and we twist their inflections, and the worst part is we now trust those words to hold truth. People hate being deceived, yet they play the fool. If this is the case for everyone as it is for me, then what purpose does a conversation have? What is the purpose in this conversation?
____: Well, you could apply that to anything, really. Go back as far as Adam in the garden.
Alex: You mock me.
____: I have to! You make it so easy. Seriously though, let's say there is no purpose to conversing. Let's say there is no purpose to anything for that matter. If that is the case, then why worry? Just enjoy it.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
I have forgotten the sculptor.
- afm
Alex: It amazes me how easy it is to forget, whether we want to or not.
____: What do you mean?
Alex: You know, like an impactful conversation you have had with the most important of persons, a conversation that has sculpted your life and changed your shape, yet over time we forget about the conversation itself. We forget about the sculptor and the effort they made to mold you into something different. Upon forgetting we start believing that there never was a sculptor, and that the sculpture was created all on its own.
____: You speak of creating a sculpture when it sounds more like you are describing its destruction. How ironic.
Alex: Yes, it is peculiar how destruction is the foundation to creation.
____: Again, you will have to elaborate.
Alex: Well, you could apply it to anything, really. Go back as far as Adam in the garden. God may have created man, but it was man's self-destruction that created man as a species. That is when creation was truly completed: when destruction began.
____: And I believe it is safe to assume you were not originally talking about Genesis. Perhaps something more personal?
Alex: I should just continue ranting without pause. Your questions hold no more curiosity or concern than the silence of a psychiatrist.
____: How does that make you feel?
Alex: Hah! You're funny. But yes, I was referring to something of more personal interest.
____: Please continue.
Alex: As you wish, doctor. Anyways, I've just been wondering - as I often do - what is the use of conversing? We manipulate words, we select the ones we want to hear and we twist their inflections, and the worst part is we now trust those words to hold truth. People hate being deceived, yet they play the fool. If this is the case for everyone as it is for me, then what purpose does a conversation have? What is the purpose in this conversation?
____: Well, you could apply that to anything, really. Go back as far as Adam in the garden.
Alex: You mock me.
____: I have to! You make it so easy. Seriously though, let's say there is no purpose to conversing. Let's say there is no purpose to anything for that matter. If that is the case, then why worry? Just enjoy it.
FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN
I have forgotten the sculptor.
- afm
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
The Alex Show - Episode 35
I am starting to strongly believe that the emotional content of people is much like the universe.
When the body lies, the mind runs. When the body questions where the mind has wandered, it rarely looks within. One cannot simply roll their eyes back and look through bone. No, unlike other organs, the exoskeleton is much harder to access. Even if one were to miraculously break through the rigid, rocklike structure of a skull, the mind itself is impossibly impenetrable. Still, anything can be broken. Sometimes strength and will power are not always the mandatory instruments needed. Sometimes you just need to play a different tune.
The day is gone. You enter the safety of your home. You lock all your doors, turn on every light, and ready the alarms - assured relaxation.
ASIDE: It is as if we as people are always hiding. Though we may relish in the venture of travel, knowledge and love, come nightfall we reside amongst ourselves, and once our eyes are shut, we claim not to see, yet we do. We can see eternity.
All is quiet. There is stillness for a brief moment in your conscious day, but it is that very stillness that commands the mind to move. It is the stillness that directs direction, instructing a person's internal instruments to sound. Each thought buzzes, reverberating off your skull until memories, dreams, and imaginations become a terrifying reality of what could be. It is hard to believe that in stillness much can be stirred.
ASIDE: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." What a true statement after being dissected. Fear is worse than Death. Death does not seek you out, Death merely waits, and if you filled your life with good intent and right doings, He is easily thought of as an escort, a limo driver to a glorious afterlife. Fear is not like Death. Fear consumes. Picture a smaller fish being eaten by a larger fish. Fear is the larger fish, and you the smaller fish. Your body is enclosed in its body, fighting for escape. Regardless of your struggle, you can only move in the direction in which Fear moves. Though you may have been devoured, you are not dead... yet. Only your own actions will guide you to Death.
There are lessons to note. Do not check the peephole once your door is locked. Whatever may be out, cannot get in. Do not look under your bed. You will find nothing but what you left there. Once the lights are off, they stay off. Light cannot expose what cannot be seen. Do not run to your bed. Running in the dark is more dangerous than the fictitious things that wish to catch you. Do not hide under your covers. Comforters are not made to be shields. More importantly, note what you should do: always look up.
ASIDE: It is curious how people feel small when they are afraid, yet they never look up. If you are literally small, you almost always look up. You have to because so much of the world is above you. The same should apply to those who are figuratively small, for if your paranoid mind is correct, up is where they will be hiding.
to be continued...
- afm
When the body lies, the mind runs. When the body questions where the mind has wandered, it rarely looks within. One cannot simply roll their eyes back and look through bone. No, unlike other organs, the exoskeleton is much harder to access. Even if one were to miraculously break through the rigid, rocklike structure of a skull, the mind itself is impossibly impenetrable. Still, anything can be broken. Sometimes strength and will power are not always the mandatory instruments needed. Sometimes you just need to play a different tune.
The day is gone. You enter the safety of your home. You lock all your doors, turn on every light, and ready the alarms - assured relaxation.
ASIDE: It is as if we as people are always hiding. Though we may relish in the venture of travel, knowledge and love, come nightfall we reside amongst ourselves, and once our eyes are shut, we claim not to see, yet we do. We can see eternity.
All is quiet. There is stillness for a brief moment in your conscious day, but it is that very stillness that commands the mind to move. It is the stillness that directs direction, instructing a person's internal instruments to sound. Each thought buzzes, reverberating off your skull until memories, dreams, and imaginations become a terrifying reality of what could be. It is hard to believe that in stillness much can be stirred.
ASIDE: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." What a true statement after being dissected. Fear is worse than Death. Death does not seek you out, Death merely waits, and if you filled your life with good intent and right doings, He is easily thought of as an escort, a limo driver to a glorious afterlife. Fear is not like Death. Fear consumes. Picture a smaller fish being eaten by a larger fish. Fear is the larger fish, and you the smaller fish. Your body is enclosed in its body, fighting for escape. Regardless of your struggle, you can only move in the direction in which Fear moves. Though you may have been devoured, you are not dead... yet. Only your own actions will guide you to Death.
There are lessons to note. Do not check the peephole once your door is locked. Whatever may be out, cannot get in. Do not look under your bed. You will find nothing but what you left there. Once the lights are off, they stay off. Light cannot expose what cannot be seen. Do not run to your bed. Running in the dark is more dangerous than the fictitious things that wish to catch you. Do not hide under your covers. Comforters are not made to be shields. More importantly, note what you should do: always look up.
ASIDE: It is curious how people feel small when they are afraid, yet they never look up. If you are literally small, you almost always look up. You have to because so much of the world is above you. The same should apply to those who are figuratively small, for if your paranoid mind is correct, up is where they will be hiding.
to be continued...
- afm
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Reconcile
I talk to statues for their words,
But even monoliths can lie.
I asked a deaf man what he heard,
But I recognized the answers
Before he could reply.
The chase is just a waste of time.
I plant the dead weeds in the stone,
But under moonlight they will thrive.
It's so intriguing how dead grows,
Treading ground much like a cancer,
Eating up what's left alive.
The end is such a friendly sight.
I'm breaking bread after I eat.
I'm hiding crumbs under my case.
I'm putting static on repeat,
And I'm begging for the let down.
I'm begging for the chase
To be over in the next town,
To be finished posthaste.
- afm
Monday, January 30, 2012
The Alex show - Episode 34
- Making ends meet is like juggling in the dark.You might know the weight of it all,You might even know the physics of it,But without the comfort of sight,You are helpless.- afm
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)