Coffee Shop

I finished the last song I needed to record for the flatsound/Christopher McFetridge split album. They'll be released on cassette through Jeune Ete Records.

Coffee Shop
i want to know where you're going
on the way to the coffee shop
because when your body drops
there's nothing left
i was told you were different
i was told you were done with this
i know old habits die hard
but this is ridiculous
you stood there so scared you couldn't talk
then took my hand and led me around the block
and showed me what those boys have done

we use to skip class on thursdays
to take the bus into Oceanside
just to go to the graveyard
and smoke until we felt alive
and we talked about dying
the release of our energy
like a flower you've never touched
like a painting you've never seen
you admit that you used to be
so scared of eternity
but that shore of timelessness
is something you need to see
the more you talked about that endless coast
the less your words were timid when you spoke
and that's what scared me the most

we would speak in a whisper
and only talk when we needed to
and drink all the alcohol
we found in the living room
you lied there so confident
with an aura around your soul
you're the flower i've never touched
you're the painting im lookin' for
i went to the old abandoned house
where someone had told me they knocked it down
and i felt everything hit the ground

i want to know where you're going
on the way to the coffee shop
because when you're body drops
there's nothing left
now you're the breeze in the summertime
you're the footsteps in the snow
you're the flower that i have lost
you're the painting im lookin' for

I'm going to take a late morning nap now, goodnight <3

A man, an old woman, and her cat.

I went for a walk about a half hour ago. Nothing big, just up the street so I could get a view of down town at this hour. On the way I noticed a light coming from my neighbors home, it lit up their living room and made them visible. I've never spoken to them, but they seem chill. I like the idea of grown ups being up that late. There was a man in the kitchen talking to a very old women in the living room, she had a cat on her lap and a television in front of her. They would occasionally laugh.

With time the television disappeared, along with the unused furniture and everything else. There were no electronics, there was no painting on the wall. There was no panic disorder, there was no shaking, there was no worry. There was just a man, an old woman, and her cat. As the laughter settled, so did my stomach.

Before it could continue I pulled myself away from the scene and continued walking, assuring myself that this town isn't all bad.

things i made today

"666"

"spiders, whores, and that awful pain in my stomach"