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Fuck Your Process Throw Your Life At A Wall

by Hello Whirled

/
1.
I see the light on your head it stopped glowing red an hour ago you could be burning it bright but in a state of loss of words, you couldn't know that everything mattered and all in a moment you came to life shouting "I see the light" and everything shattered like glass in a matter of seconds at night meaning "I see the light" I don't recall what you said after that for a minute or two were you okay or in pain? but in a state of loss of words, I suddenly noticed that you re-adjusted and all in an instant you fell to earth shouting "I see the light" and everything stood still and waited for you to stand up and, confident say "I see the light" and everything mattered and all in a moment you came to life shouting "I see the light" and everything shattered like glass in a matter of seconds at night meaning "I see the light"
2.
you couldn't head down the trail the path less traveled there's something special down there you saw the risks and gave up poetic justice or just fabric and hair so I put you on trial for mercy and I know that you don't beg so you'll leave me alone
3.
what was he thinking? it means more than now sells the pride of the catch for the glimpse of an answer what was he saying or thinking he saw? drops the pride of the catch for the glimpse of an answer and watches the sun set slowly into a moon-aged nightmare hears the loops circled round in his head he's not brain-dead or upending any account just a little enamored with cumulus clouds bursting what was he thinking? it means more than now sells the pride of the catch for a turning of favor what was he saying or thinking he saw? drops the new favorite flavor for a turning of favor and hopes he can go home where no one expects a word drenched in illusion or maybe just sweat or a new kind of option that makes everything better and easier what was he thinking?
4.
Burning Hair 00:39
5.
every day someone calls the rain "pennies from heaven" but the ones I had, long gone and spent so I'm left filling blanks with false memories and reminiscing in a loop that will never end pour one out for another dead dog disproves the existence of a god it's one thing to know it's coming it's one more to hear its drumming it's something else to see it and hold it in your arms you're not the only one who lost the year old friends and enemies have joined the dust so as your presence becomes but a distant memory let my tears become rust I've filled my void with shadows of you they're almost close but not quite true I miss you
6.
"you'll never really understand" so tells a story hidden deep inside a thick anthology they only made 100 copies, all distributed to bars says The Country Singer, deep in debt to Mother Machiavellian most owners lost it, or forgot it, or just left it in their cars so says the dead Singer, blood dripping out of eyes and into ponds where all the wildlife has changed hue "did it change you too?" he lies there motionless unthinking, so we'll never know his side and since you never read it either you wouldn't really have a clue
7.
8.
go your life without really thinking really doing anything throw your life out by doing nothing not making something of it so how do you want to be remembered? or do you want to be known at all? a vaguest face on the landing page of a forgotten funeral home know yourself without showing yourself to an uncaring mass who'll only look, who'll only talk if you show them your ass but how's an A for effort? at least you can say you tried and not known as a giver of "up" before you died so how will you be remembered? as a mirror image of all or a hole to fall down into with murals on the walls
9.
the thought that it's not finished and too perfect to be so but to strike it with a hammer would be too fitting an end so at what point do you wait? let it flourish and become a tree burn it down and let it roam free the lions will never hold a trophy you can never know the answer is that the beauty of it? the feeling of never being enough soft hands touch or shatter glass nails on granite palms from brick skies above have you seen the earth outside your tunnel vision? tempt your medications to dance god it's so cold in there like an old split planet broken across the stars new lands forming out of old chunks garbage piles up in the last bedroom lost pillows and feathers tarnished where sleep goes to die, or better, live for every dream you can't "lucid" out of got so sick of trends I snapped my hip proper nouns are great for hacking the systems should I hoist my torch for the best new vested interest? in what way does it hurt who? throw my guts on the floor and watch them crawl up onto the walls we put between each other there's no greater reward for growing up than the cold harsh uncaring winter of stagnation decades pass like seconds for some how do I refuse the innate? shape my future into a glass sculpture look into its mirror, watch me turn into everything I hate love keeps its nuisance over theirs the walls I've built around its heart what none can penetrate can't hurt me what no one understands can't keep me from learning before I stop, become a god turn the tables into rail spikes cast your vote for blue and silver pray for sort of upward movement and lands to earth a chance to fail benefit from mistakes made but that would make too much sense so what does any of this matter? throwing process at a wall fuck a chunk of a decade, I don't want to make plans let things happen around me cause what do I have to lose through zero? what can't I cancel out with a phase? is my true self hidden in the ferns? is there a flame that always burns? so I can burn down everything around me and after me and inside me and outside me and you

about

Recorded entirely on a Yamaha MT8X. I bought it broken, found out it actually mostly worked, sent it to Kaszimir Herbert who told me he had it was a beast to fix but he did fix it, and then I made this with it. I plan to keep using it but I don't know in what capacity.

3/7/2024 update - The machine was a real fucker. I attempted to use it to make what became NO USE CRYING OVER SPILLED BLOOD but it had other issues that just became too much to deal with, so I sold it. With any luck, this album will mark the last time I put out an album for the sake of an experiment. The only one that's come out since this that could be called that is THE OCEAN ON FIRE, but that was a more worthy experiment and I'm happier with it.

credits

released March 3, 2023

All things: Ben Spizuco

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Hello Whirled Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Album count: 49.
Release count: 137.
Song count: 1447.

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