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parts of a whole

by there will be fish

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1.
and i know that my life is forever changed and i hope that her death was not in vain and i cried out for god's irreversible claim and i prayed to live every day without pain and how i wish my mind could be erased but still her voice calls me from beyond the grave you mourn me restlessly, trapped me inside your gaze you locked me up in your heart, you made me your slave please don't tell me that i'm losing my mind why did you leave me? why was i left behind? if you loved me so much then why don't you cry if you want me back so badly then why don't you try you know that i can never return and you know that death cannot reverse and no matter how much you hope and yearn i am dead. i am dead. i am dead. i am gone. i hope that you will listen close to me i hope that you will not be afraid to sleep
2.
I. The Problem yes this is a cry for help yes this is my pain yes i know that you cannot help me yes i wish you could no i am not seeking any form of attention if i were i would be a lot less secretive and a lot less private and attempt very hard to show off my death yes sometimes i believe i am god and i can take a life but i can’t yes sometimes i believe in god and that he is somewhere laughing while i suffer i once claimed i would devote my life to god and to his son and the holy mother but now i can’t devote my life to living sometimes i envy those who can put trust in him and rely on him and believe in him even when the times are good i tell you the things i think and do and write and you don’t know what to say and that’s alright but don’t be ignorant about it don’t yell at me don’t chastise me don’t chide me don’t yell at yourself don’t chastise yourself don’t chide yourself this is just as much your fault as mine you can help if you want this is not in my power this is your problem to fix please? II. The Offer and here i offer you my sacrament and here i offer you my soul in raw and pure and unadulterated form and here in this shithole of a confessional i offer you my very being i offered you these things and you denied them without thinking you said you had no way to give the things that i would need i didn’t ask too much of you besides your entire existence it seems like a fair trade your soul for mine (though i presume mine may not be as pure as yours) i mean that’s the only rational explanation that i can think of anyway it just isn’t the right sort of deal that you’re looking for and i get that i appreciate that but for my own sake fuck you but when i think about it your mind is stained with impurities as much as mine though perhaps not physically your mental state is the same you dream of the same terrible hushed dreams as i do and think of the same demeaning acts as well but perhaps the best way to act on them would be together not to be strange at all but i just want to save you from the rest III. The Metaphor and so i see you have trouble reading into some of my more complex metaphors. i’ve decided to make this one simple and easy to understand just for you. you see if you equate all of the hatred and anger and apathy and sadness and guilt to a laser beam and set it up shining in a single red dot on the wall (in which case, the wall is my brain) then, you take a prism a million-sided prism and place it right in front of the laser beam then screw it into the table the laser will shine everywhere and cover the room with specks and dots and lines and shapes from the refractions of millions of shards of glass this prism is depression and there is nothing anyone can do to move it and i certainly don’t have the power to move it and every once in a while i like to screw it in a little bit tighter until the laser blinds me and the pain imbibes me and i drown myself in sound and darkness until i collapse beneath the weight of the light and bask in the complete and utter sleep and dream complete utter nothing.
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hardcore 00:55
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strong and secure you try to win the war but what are you fighting for? starving for light you're crying through the night barren now from life you looked away from death with never ending breath beneath your shattered breast and when push comes to shove with headlights from above scully have I loved
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cactus emoji 02:24
don't dip your fingers in the future, love, just let the waves curl around your ankles let the sea be your fountain of youth and smooth the tears through your cuts and wrinkles we don’t see each other much i want you to know that i'm selfish, baby but i promise that i will learn to share you with all your guys and your girls and your lovers i don't wanna be the one to pull my hair out don't worry you and me won't you’re not god, you’re not jesus, nor a virgin but i think judas is your disciple you’re the sun, you’re the sea, you are garbage but i believe that you can be recycled come visit vegas for a week of debauchery songs and high fives and weird sex you and me have got a long way to go but you know that we are both passive dreamers you've got your sights on the west coast baby but the Atlantic is so much greener why did you tell to come in the first place i am falling in love too hard so tonight i am getting fucked up yeah i'm gonna smoke the rest of my weed and lie around singing royals and ribs and pretend like we were meant to be yeah
11.
you are an ugly ending to my life i am loved The first time you talked to me, I thought you were a boy. I still could have loved you, but I was disappointed because gay marriage still wasn't legal in my state. It is now, but it doesn't matter because I feel at home in a dress. My dad would never understand if I brought home a boy and told him that I wanted to be his bride. Why is my first thought upon meeting someone always their spousal and breeding potential? You are so much more than that, but I didn't know at the time. I didn't even know your name. Our names don't fit well together. They're too close together in the alphabet. I wish I could rearrange it. I want you to change your name because I want you to be happy. I want you to change my name because I never liked mine anyway. I don't want a name because I don't want the government to watch me. I want to go off the radar with you and increase the population of the smallest town I've ever loved by negative two. I could fill out the census with you in six years because I know your name now. Your name is Lyam, or Lyndsey, or Lynsey, or Andrew. Or Lillith. But why should I care? I don't have a name either. I was disappointed to find out that the inventor of the Venn diagram was in fact English, and not Norwegian. I want to travel the world with you. I want to see what the mountain air tastes like when you exhale it down my throat in Iceland and Denmark and the Canada. I don't know the geography of those places very well, but I am an expert in the topography of your chest. I razed the fields of soy and grain and let your harvest go to the locusts even though a famine had left me barren. I heard you can cook a slab of salmon in the dishwasher, but you use yours as a drying rack so you can keep your hands dry. You don't like seafood anyway. Then why do you so intently eat my flesh? Once I went fishing in a lake where the fish were bred to be caught. I watched the attendant slice one open while it was still alive. I held its heart in my hand about the size of my thumbnail and poked it with a curious finger. It beat a few times and I felt it writhe for blood but could only gasp for air. I never thought I would feel such terror and intrigue again until I held yours in my hand and choked you lifeless but not hard enough. (the rest is improv.)

about

basically just a bunch of demos from bigger projects i conceived but never followed through with

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released April 20, 1902

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there will be fish Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

an adult with a computer and a few musical instruments.
see also: IAMFYNE.bandcamp.com

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