1. |
NOCATV
02:56
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magically there is nowhere to be, infinite but dull in certain light, just to sleep at night, i can always shy the basement days away, stretching thin, a horizontal plane, its plain to see, its a bore to breathe.
its adorable, inconsolable, lets fucking freeze frame the memories and only choose extremes, and its okay, count my lovely white lies, dreams of dreams, aging webs and rusted eyes, i whisper wishes to happy ghosts and go blind in stereo, take a nap halfway up the coast.
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2. |
long wave
02:32
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i saw your old red car yesterday on the freeway, rereading catcher in the rye, looking for an excuse to cry, and i cant seem to identify like i did 10 years ago.
ive got nothing to hold on to.
lie in bed for 24 hours straight, fluid dripping with a headache, mentally im in another space, hand in hand with old friends, choking back the number of years its been since we did something like this, electricity pushing me into bed, following to my weary dreams, the only things that im making are mistakes and excuses, trade in beautiful moments for a few extra hours of sleep.
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3. |
goodwill jacket
02:14
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take shortcuts to sadness, reach my hand to be guided by sound into greenish darkness, gliding and static, hold my breath cause its gonna pass before i blink, eclipse my nightmare with dreams.
i wanna learn to sit still for epochs, enjoy the pricks of the mundane, embrace lonely mindsets, paint thoughts onto faces.
take my sweet time getting home, lose my thoughts with practiced control.
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4. |
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5. |
grandpa was a repoman
03:07
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a quiet darkness with human kindness spreads out from a point, manifesting a dark dawning, collapsing innocent streets, with no warning as im yawning, creeping safe indoors, count the spotlights with fuzzy edges receding away from me.
i wont wake up.
can you feel it radiating from eyes of hateful neighbors, always cheerful and condescending with superficial tongues, they can see me as im crawling back to my hiding place, spineless and feeble with nothing clever to say.
i wont wake up.
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6. |
shell
02:28
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take a turn on the roof, with a diseased attitude, clutching counterfeit emotions too close.
i am unknown, unknowing in turn, in tune with the vibrating weather, overcasting, overlasting, typical seasonal doldrums.
easy observations, as summer shrinks and fades into past tense, half used ideas at the bottom of drawers piling, wasting, waiting, burning at both ends.
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7. |
mutable
02:30
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wandering, humid fog on sidewalk, cant sleep in, cant breathe out these three dots, infesting obsolete school of thought, remember come to life in real life.
unaware, this strange view starts blurring, disarray everyday in new ways, hold onto these fragile impressions, this is not the nightmare i dreamt up.
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8. |
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9. |
expectation management
02:29
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learning to trust my doubts, hanging with my insides out, come and take a peak. wearing vacation eyes to keep up the disguise of healthy temperament.
settings drenched in rain clouds, ballooned and looking down with a smile and a frown. swelling overhead, so close to brain dead.
what difference does it make if i sleep in, forget to check my phone, hold my life in my pocket, or get high before noon?
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10. |
sleep demon (wise up)
01:54
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26 hours late to the weekend, scrub the mold off of my bad posture, im swelling into a stranger, a person i never knew, unrelated and real late as it is.
just another symptom of age, always left with an acid aftertaste, disdain, distilled complaints, my future is stoned, so long, so lost in darling song, somewhere some where like this is heaven, sometimes some times are too simple to believe in, i am immune to outside influence, no one can get me down anymore.
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11. |
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12. |
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spend my nights like im watching a movie, moving with light, alive indifferently, reversing feelings to look inside out, silently sounds embraced and lost and found.
hipster boredom, take a dive in dark lives, champagne distractions echoed in disguise, stars in the ceiling, daydreaming patterns, crashing, sipping tea, memories unturned.
secretly home again, drunk on the roof, quietly missing friends, running in blue, trying to forget to always complain, david pepper was born on shadow lane.
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13. |
hawver blues
03:38
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ive got buzzards on the back of my neck, chewing through my halo with their whispering breath, humming hexes and poems to my drunken step, a cool smile, affirming the presence of death.
my knees are weak next to strange bodies, my thoughts are hateful from bored stories, my time is best spent in bathroom stalls hiding, watching my ego melting away.
ive got sketches of my greatest fears come in for a handshake with a 6 pack of beer, calling easy and friendly and out of thin air, and i can see the scissors bleeding as he cuts my hair, feeling no different as i die on a dare, i exhale with patience, too stubborn to care.
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Hooplah! Oakland, California
self-indulgent basement sounds and poems made by colin frost
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