cd1

portrait of the artist

charisma

inspire

the failed musician

the source of my unhappiness

mediocrity

i hate music

another negative sexual experience

ambisexual

birthday suit

susan sontag

jazz

no emotion

my resignation

count the days

cd2

the melodrama

fem politique

hausfrau

oh tyler

corporate rock

my self doubt

why r u so sad?

the cliche

get bored

i got a mental block

popstar, for sure

on the hill

cognitive dissonance

bitterlust

hack

CHARISMA. kiss me on the dance floor. oooh, my favorite thing. kiss me on the dance floor, c’mon rapturous soul. waiting for this moment. an infinity to an eternity. hide my resentful eyes, oh how i want to touch yr body. cuz we’re drunk + disappointed. always, always, alone again. drunk + disappointed, watch me self destruct. cuz i want to express myself with confidence, you will accept me as i am. everything that i, that i desire - bruised, rip my heart to shreds. performance. charisma. my negative self image. my lack of self esteem. my bitter disposition, mask my resentful eyes. cuz i been waiting for this moment, all i can do is not to think. with all the thoughts inside, inside my head, how can i even begin to transcend? you said, come desire me, won’t you rip my body apart? i said, please inspire me, won’t you crush all of insecurities away? cuz i want to express myself with confidence, my narcissistic facsimile on display. i want to express myself with confidence, you will accept me as i am. performance. yr charisma. oooh, let us fantasize.

INSPIRE. find my inspiration, fill my blood with speed. all these inhibitions, oh just let us drink. i want to come original, i want to create something new. gonna give my mind some visions, hallucinate myself some dreams. translate something universal and true, for sure. for why do i lack the strength, the talent, and the drive. for why have i never found the right place, at the right time. well how is it that i am so inadequate? my life is so boring that always i must be enhanced? i want to be inspired, i want to hear now something new! i don’t mean to be so desperate, but i just want something to do! i would give you anything, to make you want to love me. would you try, just for a moment, to suspend yr disbelief? gonna capture yr imagination, oh.

THE FAILED MUSICIAN. oh look what you made all by yourself (the failed musician). it was never yr fault if nobody liked it. it was such a funny joke until it became true. stand and perform, no you were always too shy. it was never yr fault if nobody liked it. but now you’ve become bored by the lack of reassurances. not even yr friends believe in you. and you’ve become so uninspired it’s deafening. they always thought that you looked the part well. but with expectations, you could never deliver. words can not the disappointment, (yet how common it is). too many ideas, too many years too late. these are yr dreams as they fade away. and you are so, so alone. you are so alone, so alone.

THE SOURCE OF MY UNHAPPINESS. how could this be, that you have become, the source of my unhappiness? i know, that it’s all me. it must be all me. you have to make a choice, will you make the wrong choice? i have to make a choice, i will choose the wrong choice. you don’t feel the same way, you say. i don’t feel the same way, perhaps this is true. how could this be that you have become the source of my unhappiness? you say, i love you more than you will ever know, and i want to disappear. i want to run away, i want to leave this place, and i do not understand why i am unhappy. i love you more than you will ever know, i love you more than you will ever know. you don’t feel the same, you know i know. and i want to disappear.

MEDIOCRITY. there is nothing special about how you feel. there is nothing unique about what you have made. lay around all day so self absorbed. wank like such a fool, with so little to say. mediocrity. how might even begin to take this seriously? all i see is motivation so compromised. everything about it is so pretentious. how dare you offer me such disrespect. oh, it fucking sucks, yeah i could do that. oh this fucking sucks, yeah i could do that. we’ll make artwork out of yr delusions, yr delusions. we’ll cut it up and change the world, change the world. you always said there’d be some kids somewhere. go on and go, sell yourself, sell yourself.

I HATE MUSIC. i hate music when i hear yr song. everything about it is everything that’s wrong. yr so persona and you make me wanna, so concourse, and it make me wanna, make me wanna. like incognizant for sure. so absorbed, i’m so bored for sure. ego choreography dance across my dashboard. turn the god damn radio off. i hate music when i hear my song. everything about it is always wrong. i want it to be perfect, i want it to feel right, but mediocrity and failure is all i hear. we can’t play by these rules. unmotivate me, i hate my limitations. so little time, so much to procrastinate, cuz when i play you my song, i feel like a fool. please inspire me! please give me what i lack!

ANOTHER NEGATIVE SEXUAL EXPERIENCE. from a short distance we saw him. and i worked up my courage. though truly we didn’t belong here, he had thrown himself out here. to pay with respect, what harm could it bring? he said thank you, only in the most detached manner possible, and he just stared at me blankly. this was my hero throughout my depressed high school years, at the time i would have been given to offer a hug. yet, whatever he was stoned on intimidated the life out of my tongue. as recited my script, the words limp stuttered out of my mouth. praises, some true, some false, and he just stared at me blankly. weakly, he shook my hand, and i ran the fuck away. for i had been too close to this false prophet smeared make-up and bloated middle age. whatever relevance his prospective activities might of stature might reattain, i could never again listen and enjoy his music the same. with disdain and discomfort, he stared at me blankly, and that is what i will remember most.

AMBISEXUAL. we are androgyne, like a chimera. (kiss me). gender warrior destroyer. all of these cultural signifiers i reject. you will not define me by ascribed preconceptions. we are androgyne, fear our confidence.

BIRTHDAY SUIT. it’s yr birthday. yr gonna have a party. with cake, colors, and confetti. with whip cream and fresh fruit, (for sure). all yr friends are coming, oh they’re gonna be dressed so nice. but oh, i got a surprise, i’m gonna wear my birthday suit. and oh i won’t be embarrassed. and all of yr friends might be embarrassed. but i got the knife right here for your cake, in my birthday suit. (i said) oh it’s yr present. don’t you want yr fucking present?! don’t you wanna touch my body? cuz everything i want is inside of you! wear yr birthday suit.

SUSAN SONTAG. do you fear you suffer from zeitgeist? i fear i suffer from zeitgeist. i’ve read some of yr books. from yr girlfriend’s photos, i’ve liked yr looks. i dreamt about you last night, you were my benefactor, and i was yr john-john. you confided in me yr theory on photography. hey susan sontag, be my fag hag. we’d go to a movie about forbidden romance. (oh i get so hard when you talk jean luc goddard). at the discotheque we’d dance with yr friends from france. (lets do the locomotion on the conga line). you’d be such a great host, on the rive gauche. (en chante). whenever i have question, i’d run to you for the answer. cuz you know lots of stuff, you’ve survived cancer. (yr so smart i want to die). that’s why you have so many honorary degrees, from all those universities! he susan sontag, be my fag hag.

JAZZ. high school. jazz competition. field trip. santa barbara. band clinic. instructor man. he got the black in him, he said. racialize my musica, make a jazz noise here. white man. straight. tell it to the single black boy on bass. solo, solo. wank, wank. racialize my musica, make a jazz noise here. yr head bobs intensely with the importance of each note you consummate. (free jazz). a superficial showcase of supposed improv, how make it art, how make it art? these mundane chord progressions, so sequential, so sequential. every fucking night it’s a funeral dirge to keep the music alive, as if this be sacred like a church, oh honey lets go get cultured. every night it’s the same played out show, imitate yr dead hero. i disconnect, i disconnect, my ears can’t stand this poison. flaunt me a dead genre!

NO EMOTION. wipe away the residue. keep the mess contained. with each attempt, you push me away. you only want one thing, i must perform for you. no emotion. no sensation. only what i feel. leave me empty, without passion. how was i supposed to know, know what you were trying not to think. so unable to reconcile, oh how disappointed you have become. i assume this role to play, each time our physical monotony. let us go through the motions, each movement upon yr command. with no emotion. no sensation. only what i feel. leave me passive and tender. sometimes i hate you so much. oh how you slow me down. how you crush me. it’s my fault if i want something more. my fault, if i’m not satisfied. and now i feel so cold, and now i am so alone.

MY RESIGNATION. for what could i fill my head. for strength, for confidence, oh i know of some medicine. how eager i might become to share and perform. all my thoughts and feelings, every last insipid detail. as for what might i strive to be? a calculated contraception of originality? all of these caustic thoughts, well i never was much a optimist. yet for all things eventual, once it seemed there were so many possibilities. but now that time has past. the light inside of me has faded. and all that was imagined as a child, will not in my lifetime come to pass. once i left my head and i saw the world for what it was. all my friends, i saw there minds floating just above the tops of their bodies. their souls hanging weightlessly, hovering about this terrible living room. elongated smiley skull faces all staring me, oh what a hideous sight. and i saw my life for what it was, a terrible terrible joke. and i saw myself defined by all that i could not do. sans delusions, all that i am, was not what i wanted it to be. and all of my discarded anxiety rushed furiously, so furiously right back on into me. and i hated who i was. and i hated who i am. so i ran the fuck away. away from this terrible living room. into the cold night air. into the somewhat starless sky.

COUNT THE DAYS. i’m living my life, doing the best that i can, as i waste everyday, watch time slip away, i feel myself age. i’m watching my life pass me right by. and i’m not living my life to its fullest. count the days to the future, you’ll waste your whole life away. i need you.

THE MELODRAMA. what am i going to do with my life? how i worry about it almost every moment of each day. mask our resentful eyes, deny our disappointed lives. though we are so very doomed, from one instant our pathetic dreams could become true. and just one song could take us away. oh how i want to escape this place. oh help me to leave this place. away in your arms into the warm night air. away, lets go somewhere far from here. cuz just one song could take us away.

FEM POLITIQUE. a dirty look in yr eye. a filthy look, yr desire. oh how you fucking bore me. fill my heart with anger. fill heart with joy. fill my heart with hatred. oh what a spiteful boy. fem politique. i am not quite yr fantasy. oh how disappointed you appear. oh how you fucking bore me. you manifest me with rapture. manifest me with desire. manifest me with yr trepidation. oh what a spirited liar. oh! i do not look how i look to look like someone else. i only look how i look to very much be myself. so just what the fuck is yr failure to comprehend, just what the fuck is yr question?! you have no idea just what i am and am not capable of. oh! oh!

HAUSFRAU. i wanna be yr hausfrau, cook dinner for my bread winner. we’re gonna have a wedding, and i’m gonna wear all white. even though i let you in my bedroom last night. i’m gonna feed on yr seed. lets fuck everybody else out of existence. we’ll time it to when i bleed, and then we’ll breed. i wanna be yr hausfrau, cooking dinner for my bread winner. you can be the man, rockin’ my minivan. after work if yr a crank, i’ll give yr little dick a wank. i don’t need a career, i’ll just bring you yr beer. cuz i am yr wife, and i know how to use a knife. i wanna wake up to yr babies screaming in the night. lets make more of us, lets make more of us...than them!! fraulein schadenfreude.

OH TYLER. why won’t you love me? don’t you want, want my body? i lay here naked on yr bed, i’m covered in rose pedals, they’re all red. i was standing in yr shower. i was nude from the waste down. but i had shirt on still cuz i was embarrassed, of all the chest hair on my chest. oh tyler! hanging out in yr garage. i offered to give you a friendly massage. oh pretty boy can’t you see? don’t you know yr everything to me. i wanted to wear yr wedding dress. and i wanted to wear a leather vest. and i wanted to cook you dinner in yr kitchen with yr pots and pans and make a fucking mess. oh tyler i wanna touch you! oh tyler i wanna feel you! why you gotta make me cry? don’t you know it makes me want to die? i said i curl up in a ball, i feel so small. i don’t who the fuck else there is that i can call! i need you! i need you! i need you! i need you! i don’t know what the fuck else that i can do?!

CORPORATE ROCK. this ain’t no bluster, this is for real, universal sentiments my audience can feel. we’re modern rock, we used to be alternative, we’re kicking out the jams, we came to give and give. oh we paid our dues, we want we’re entitled to. we don’t care if the suits don’t dance, as long as they give us our advance. we’re very professional, our influences are the best. yeah we’re kinda similar, but we ain’t quite like the rest. taste my cock, feel the rock, yeah we live and die by this shit. never grow old, never give up, never stop our dreaming about it. where’s our contract, c’mon now bring it on! where’s our pay day, c’mon now before the fun is all gone. our band could be yr life, my band does not exist! come on and rock me, oh fuck our day jobs! our band could be yr life, my band does not exist! come on and rock me, oh yr so for real! you only have to compromise a little. ten years in the scene, you know it was worth every bit of it. mark my words, if we can, then you can make it too. all my childhood dreams, they all came now, they all came true. our band could be yr life, my band does not exist! come on and rock me, oh we’re so for real! well i saw yr last cd down in the cut out bin. yr always driving yr porsche down the boulevard, just cruising it. what happens when all that record company’s money is gone? you take their producer and rewrite that corporate rock song.

MY SELF DOUBT. i want to laugh at myself, pretend it’s all absurd for sure. act confident and boisterous, cuz i’m so fucking above it all. but i ain’t got shit to say, cuz i don’t like rhyming words. and i ain’t got nothing new to play, cuz all my songs they sound the same. i am not what you want me to be. i am not what you thought i would be. i am not who you want me to be, i am just a misperception. how did i get myself here? i can not do this. why have i tried so had? i can not do this. i have no potential, i can not do this. i do not like who i am when i am with you. i am not what you want me to be. i am not what you thought i would be. i am not who you want me to be. i am most definitely not in fashion. i want to smash my face against the wall. i want numb my senses, become nothing at all. cuz i am just a concept that trumps its execution, and i am always resigned to my self doubt. i deserve better, better than this! i will not settle, settle for this! you want to dominate, make me yr fantasy. plays these games, mold me into yr cliché. i warned you before, i might morph myself again. though even when i’m ready for fun, i’m resigned to my self doubt.

WHY R U SO SAD? why are you doing those awful things now to yourself? you went out and got so lost and now yr crying. don’t you know that i am here, here with you? it pains me to see you hurt. you know that somebody loves you. and even though they aren’t here to hold you, i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. and i will stay here with you all through the night. and i will confess foolish thing that you won’t remember. and everything will be ok, cuz you got all you need inside yr big brown eyes. so why r u so sad? would you see me as i am now? no you don’t see me.

GET BORED. alcohol induced arrogance, cockiness, self confidence, tenderness. desecrated flesh, cliché. youthful exuberance. all around the community, all exchanging pleasantries. search for something timeless. search for something new. reputation, right. you got that look now, right. yr immaculate disguise, yr garments unrequired, been seen around for a long long time. righteous alcohol imbued arrogance, yr vanity, yr serious self expression, a delirious determined mess. search for something timeless. search for something new. just one more and i will fulfilled. just one more time and i will be filled with confidence. oh forget me now, i am bored. all around the community, all exchanging pleasantries. just some recognition, won’t you at least try and hold my interest? i will try not to get bored, i might try not to get bored, but who’s fault is it if i fail?

I GOT A MENTAL BLOCK. stare at the ceiling, wait for patterns to emerge. cars drive by, the wind tunnel in yr ears. static all around, as the sun begins to set. oh impress me not, i got a mental block. now who would want to listen to music like that? chase a trend, just give me the status quo. oh i’m so lazy now, and i just don’t know. taste my frustration, just let me sleep. oh the discipline i lack, shall it be overcome? but who would want to listen to music like that? well i realize now that i’m not good enough, but i’m trying to improve. but everything i try to create just fucking bores me. i realize now i’ve sucked for years and years and years and years, and all of this noise just sounds the same. now aren’t you just a fashionable little faggot! oh yr so pretty, now come here let me touch you. now everyday you must work to refine yr craft. righteously create art only for yourself. and even if you achieve genius and greatness and accolades of oh such worthiness, that does not constitute a right to a guaranteed audience. i had a mental block, it was all my fault! i had a mental block!

POPSTAR, FOR SURE. confess my life is boring, confess my life is dull. how might i communicate, how might i plot an escape. feel my time all fade away, i’m too tired to even play. trapped at home too old, too late. feel only this despair and hate. confined always to a toxic place. i feel the lines form upon my face. everyday work aging me, becoming someone i can’t bear to see. for always that we never tried, be damn of all our worthless pride. forever underground and obscure, fuck it man, popstar, for sure. i will change my body. i will fix my face. well you don’t even know what yr singing about. yr lips are fucking moving but no words are coming out. well imitation and flattery, walking like a celebrity. see me now i’m too drunk to care, i’ve spilt my cocaine everywhere. i got ziggy stardust between my thighs. he said he was queer, but it was always lies. a false icon of sexuality. a transgendered pose of mimicry. and you can sing, you can dance! why do you deserve a fucking chance? try to change, you want to grow, but nobody is gonna buy a different show. so here we’ll go all one by one. fuck it all if it ain’t no fun. here’s our integrity, here’s the allure, c’mon girls now, popstar, for sure! what have i to offer? what have i to sell? with the judges and hair and all the people out there, you know this tragedy could never end that well. and where could i even begin again to start? they always said now who the fuck needs art! see me now, a pretentious display. hear me now, an esoteric cliché.

ON THE HILL. my glory, it tastes like sand. it’s not necessary to have an adversary. my father, he promised me a sword, and i took him for his word. my glory, it tastes like sand. my glory, it’s buried in a foreign land. on the hill, i am still. my glory, it tastes like sand. when it rains, i look to the sky. when it rains, i open my eyes. my glory, it tastes like sand. my glory, it’s buried in a foreign land. on the hill, i am still.

COGNITIVE DISSONANCE. for a few moments, you were so beautiful to me. but now i’m through, and you look in my eyes, and you know that i don’t want you anymore. i would hope that you find yourself. i have no means to apologize. i never took yr kind of rejection well. perhaps i never should have let you touch me. all of my friends always hated you, though with half yr siblings dead, they felt terribly for sure. i was only attracted to yr physicality. you’ve always known that you were never meant to be with me. i have little right to judge yr issues. though, it’s still kinda weird given what yr father did. why did i make this mistake again, i just want to stay away, the fuck away from you. it’s always the same game over and over again, you’ll never change, no you’ll never change.

BITTERLUST. go out to the club. see cocks full of poison, mouths filled spite. which one of these children of tragedy might validate us, disappoint us, make you fall in love with us. oh we feel the ugliness of this place more and more so embalmed upon our face. how we want to live, but this environment makes us want to die, a wretched prison this becomes for yr affection, yr attention, we would give you anything. we offer our whole body. fuck us like a facade. try and was the stink of this mistake away. we just want to be accepted as we are. truly, with honesty, we flaunt ourselves upon this scene. this one showers us with bullshit when all we want is what we have to give in return. there are no words here. there are no words here. these are only imaginary lies. these are not yr long lost regrets. this will destroy us. this will ruin everything. they will destroy us. this will become, become me. fuck me like a porno (oh god i am so bored). eew you wanna touch me? are you a top or a bottom? no sweetie, i don’t do that. ah that’s a good boy. i think yr a little too femme for me. you know i got thing for artists. ah yeah, yr so white. tell me what’s yr fantasy? well how do i look, do you like it? please let me take yr friend home. lets run away, just marry me. guess what, i’m not a faggot anymore. i can’t, i can’t, i’m not ready. i don’t see any ribbons in yr hair, oh oh oh oh. my ever morphing love, yr face keeps changing. though i saw you in my dreams, i will not be bitter. this world is so lost and ruined, but i want to find you. i want to meet you somewhere, no more will i be bitter. i can not. i can not. i can not, i can not. i can’t not. no. no. you know. you know. you know. you knew. you always knew it’d come to this.

HACK. you’re bored with me, and i’m bored with you. and i hate my life an i don’t what to do. i want to feel alive but i lack inertia, there is no interest, but that’s alright. i hate my music, and i hate my dreams. and i despise my will for even wanting to try. i heard a preacher once say, disappointment and failure will bring you faith. he wanted to sell me something, i’d be wise to copy his act. i have wanted another love, and i have wanted another life. now all i want is to go to sleep, and sleep these days away. you don’t believe in me. why don’t you believe in me?