1. |
Death Screen
01:32
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2. |
Jelly Boi
04:05
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I wanna unlearn how to be alone. I want a body to absorb the snacks when stoned. I wanna fight someone til my lipstick’s blood. I wanna margarita and a PBR. I want plot armor of the thinnest steel and an offscreen romance with the movie deal. I don’t have sex anymore. I don’t feel sad anymore. Don’t leave the house anymore. I have everything I need right here. You said you’re moving to the west coast and I know it sounds cliché. But I simply admire the way that you get up and paint over the walls. You shed your surroundings like a Russian doll. And I was talking to you thirteen or fourteen cities ago– You said you love a place where you don’t feel at home so I don’t date anymore. I don’t feel sad anymore. Don’t leave the house anymore. I have everything I need right here. I don’t feel sad anymore. I learned how to be alone. I want a body to absorb the snacks when stoned. I wanna fight someone til my lipstick’s blood. I wanna margarita and a PBR. I want plot armor of the thinnest steel and an offscreen romance with the movie deal. Cause all I learned is that the only thing that changes during quarantine is the chemical makeup of my body as it relates to a ratio of water to yellow tail chardonnay. Sometimes I get paranoid on the floor my friends and family don’t like me anymore. Completely irrational but that would never stop me from disappearing three days at a time. I miss you dude, promise me you’ll show me L.A. soon. I don’t remember the things you’re into but tell me everything you’re into now and we can do that too.
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3. |
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Sorry I didn’t call you back, I was too busy texting a friend I met on my phone three/four months ago while she was in town for an anime convention. There is nothing conventional about this behavior. She wants me to come over and watch Avatar but my anxiety says I will stay at home and date myself. We’re both consenting adults but I just don’t do that anymore. I’m gonna die a fishman on my shower floor because I’m too lazy to clean your hair out of my drain.
Tell mom and dad I’m doing fine. I used to like myself only sometimes. Stop telling children they’re fucking gifted, please construct additional pylons. Now my expectations don’t fit, you said all I would ever need is over it sometimes. I called you on the phone, said I was not designed to cut through flesh and bone. Get dressed now, forge emotion, where the fuck’s the seritonin at? I’m a demigod for now please just say you’ll take it slow. Say you will, in the morning we can hash out the details. Say you will and I’ll come over and watch avatar. But my anxiety says waterbending’s code for something else. We’re both consenting adults, I just don’t do that anymore. I’m gonna die a fishman on my shower floor because I’m too lazy to clean my hair out of the drain. Go on, go on, I need another season. Go on, go on, I need another reason. Go on, go on, play house for just one weekend. Go on, go on, I need no.
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4. |
Quotients
03:28
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We got too faded at your wedding, I never caught the name of your partner. I wondered quietly to myself why none of your friends showed up to watch your life change.
Faking your own death can’t be that hard forging the narratives on your postcards. You’re dancing with skeletons in your bathtub, but I’ve still got skin and muscle. Persuasion check now: it’s so good to see you
I never got used to the time change, my circadian rhythm’s too overleveled. Dying to know what happens in your novel. Surely this was all fanfiction. Sorry but I’m just too hungover to dance.
Joe and I took a gummy in the bathroom. Grabbed a beer and I think I’m jealous of you.
My life is a game show called Watching Us Atrophy Into Good Friends. Then old friends. Just acquaintances to people we knew once. No Power of Veto, Big Brother is watching me makeout to tiktoks and memories of eating cosmic brownies in my dorm room. Taxidermy me looking cool, it doesn’t hurt. The cyanide it tastes like bitter almonds from the marzipan I miss each night. Cause I'm better.
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5. |
Pause Screen
01:38
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6. |
Weekend At Tony's
03:47
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It was summer, you cut your hair. You feel better with your new hair cause you know I won’t like new hair. I hope you keep all your new hair. I am losing faith I will remember your old hair when I wake up.
It was summer, I cut my hair. I feel better with my new hair cause I know you’ll like my new hair. I hope I keep all my new hair. I hope you keep all your new hair. I hope we keep changing our hair.
Made a list of things I wanna complete by the end of august: cut my hair and throw a party for my best friends, jam another #2 ticonderoga into my thigh, drive to Connecticut with Logan, buy a cat that I hope fixes all my problems.
I crossed off the only thing on that list, how will I spend the next three months alone? What about the next fifty years after that? I think I might get sick of myself. You crossed off the only thing on that list, how will you spend the next three months alone? What about the next fifty years after that? I think I might get sick of myself.
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7. |
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Our backs against the parking lot floor you ask me “what are all these stars for?” “What’s a fundamental particle?” I’m watching Kurzgesagt in my sleep. I am the light from a dead star. I am the white whale of your dreams. And I’m the dial tone you talk to when your current client outgrows you. You’re always in need of a ship to jump to.
Kaitlyn where’s your coat? Sean said you just threw up so you call me to escort you home. I’ll get you there on time, you pull me close when we get inside. But that’s the time I psyched you out. Cause when we go to your room I helped you pick out pajamas, got a glass of water for you and ibuprofen but when I left the kitchen you were passed out on the couch. You always do this when you go out. Next year I won’t be so around to pull the hair out of your mouth. Kaitlyn, we spin, but we spin opposite. Kaitlyn we spin but our charges are opposite.
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8. |
Letters From Momtown
02:43
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I wanted to be more than I thought that I could be with all this time
which show should I put on is it worth this to put off and sacrifice
i’ll go on like this for days and years
i’m begging please put down the phone
Decisions force me to acknowledge the passing of time. If I press pause I will remain mine
Procrastination my sword, I’ll slay you if I get bored. I’m just too scared to get out of bed. Starting over’s no fun, could you please burn my plus one now and for eternity?
picking up my phone i’ll be all night
wanting to do more with wasted time
watered down commitments i feel held down to convince myself I’m fine
Executive function neurotypical thing I can’t win. I wish I could cut the daisies sprouting from my throat and mouth that tell me to stop every task. I never speak or see it out. Just follow through follow through follow through follow.
I wanted more with my time and i don’t wanna waste it
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9. |
Damn Son, Dim Sum
02:34
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I can’t fall back to sleep, planning things like D&D, hurting people that I love over things that they believe. Like a god who told them breed, reading facts you wanna see, and your peter pan syndrome’s the only spell card that you need. But I won’t play the same class as the one you rolled me as, and I don’t wanna dance for you.
Your god too small, he lacks mithril plate mail armor. He’s just one death save throw away. Goodbye, go home. Player, we know what you really are—death to the mindflayer.
And whhen the knife slipped in, I felt the hiss of vital organs: critical hit never felt so good. But we’re far too late, your acolytes have burned this place, reclaimed the magistrate and paint their nails with blue wall desert caves.
And they will resurrect you, from propaganda they read. I would say roll initiative but you’re already dead.
But you took me from my home, reprogrammed me with a creed that was your own. While I lay dormant as the saboteur you trusted. Just know that I would hide my dagger in you again.
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10. |
Fog Gate
01:38
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11. |
||||
You and I refuse to sell our art for different reasons: no one’s ever good enough to replace people I once knew. And your composition demands you chew your arm off if someone holds your hand.
Finally, your sketchbook contains images of me. Finally, you draw me like your French girl, yeah you do. Finally, I’m rooting for you. Finally, you paint with your non dominant hand
I want still life. You want dada, abstract expressionist bullshit. I want Brunelleschi, you want Jef Koons. Vanta Black you paint over your flesh wound. Peel the paint from your canvas.
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12. |
Fuckin' A#
03:10
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I’ll stay asleep til I’m out of dreams. The past five years I’ve told myself I do not deserve to be held but purple hair in my sink says “shut the fuck up forgive yourself”.
I smell chemicals. I taste stale chlorine, your hands are technicolor ignorance. And when I drown I hope to feel nothing, the world will time lapse around me.
I’ll stay asleep til I’m out of dreams. I’ll forgive me when I learn to be me.
Thought i had the high score now, thought i choked this all down, thought I cleaned my plate but I just moved it all around. I smell chemicals. Gasoline can be perfume. Your skin is fuel for people new. I smell chemicals. You hold a broken glow stick. I eat instax film as you shine brighter than the fireflies.
I wanna better myself to distract from hating myself. I will power through the backlog shelf and level up my master spells. I stayed asleep I wanna wake in twilight town and slay the snake
That told me sleep would be okay but it’s not okay. Fuck
I know now it’s just a matter of gaining my own trust. Try my hand at something different instead of starting new game plus. I’ll be my own ejector seat just let me fall i’m so gone. I’ll respawn.
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13. |
||||
Be sure to pop an adderall before you go play beer pong. You never felt so lonely in your sexy witch costume despite the army of cis men slaughtered at your rostrum. And you wanna hear the mixtape but there’s far too much poetry and clarinet. Funderburker go to bed, promise me you’ll get home safe again. I don’t fear the weather, I’ve got a velociraptor sweater. My name is Ender, you know me better. Be sure to pop an adderall before you go play beer pong. You never felt so lonely in your sexy witch costume. An army of cis men slaughtered at your rostrum and you wanna hear the mixtape but there’s far too much poetry and clarinet. Funderburker, go to bed. Funderburker, go to bed. I promise you I’ll do the same. I love you like I love the rain.
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