1. |
Peace Pear
02:05
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The fruits of my mediocrity fully realized in a return to 3rd year disobedience, high school loneliness, post graduate employment. I become soaked and destroyed, my excuse premeditated and innocent. Still watch the same television, still grinning, my anxious sigh drowned and heavy, inexpressible and predictable. I steal your jazz, copy your music. Won't you share your daydreams with me? Give me a clever way to entertain. My selfish demands left unattended.
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2. |
Swann
02:09
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I'm trying to describe the state of mind that put me on this couch. I know I shouldn't be here, it should take longer than this, but I think I might be okay.
Closed out the Taco Bell, too late to buy a bottle of wine, slip into the car and laugh at my own stupid jokes, incoherently enjoyable, undeniably beautiful.
Misquoted anecdotes, stumbled conversations, the crumbs of goldfish embedded into the beer stained carpet. You are wrapped around my neck and I think I might fall asleep. Judgement pushed to the next morning, but I'm not moving tonight, and I'm not worried tonight.
Glass of water and keep my eyes closed, don't know why but I feel at home. Too dumb to be responsible, pretend to be, sigh into me and I won't dream tonight.
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3. |
Nightmares
01:09
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Spend my spare time quantifying loneliness, wearing my dreams on the inside of my pockets.
Waste my free time justifying sleepiness, looming forward towards mimicked cyclicness, a sickness predicted but stubbornly unavoided.
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4. |
Nightbeers
02:02
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Recede into break and I can't help but wait for summer to end one more time. Counting down the days, independently astray and lost in wishful thinking, thinking I'm happier alone.
Can you see me lying on the floor? With your drumming in my ear, second guessing why I'm here, choking my thoughts before I can make any sense, sensing your distance, sensing you discomfort with my indifference.
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5. |
Placebo Hangover
02:37
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My weekends are a pretext for memories, budding nostalgia sets in before Sunday is over. Secondary goals, unappreciated seconds, a constant reminder: I might be getting old. I can be described with generalities despite my daydreams, average joe doldrums, post vacation prevarications, conditioning the absurd.
I am descending into distraction, adopting a proclivity towards nothing, prolificness fading. Given into mental prostration. I might be frustrated if I really cared. A simple clever trick, disillusioned and over used.
Repurpose minor frustrations as inspiration. I can't help but cringe, self disappointment hinged on binge drinking and bedtimes.
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6. |
Moldy Locks
01:37
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Fail to avoid the movie coincidence and we both know that you will be disappointed in me no matter what I do. Does it really matter either way? It's just gonnna make me sad. I really tried to smile when you shook my hand. Cordial and friendly with an old sidekick, like:
Oh we've met before right? How are you? Do you still think about me everyday, like I do?
And I hate being the bad guy, so can you please stop reminding me.
Quiet and distant, pretend your not important to me.
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Hooplah! Oakland, California
self-indulgent basement sounds and poems made by colin frost
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