1 Waking Up
2 With the Sun In My Eyes
3 I’m Not Getting Up
4 Seems To Help You Fade Away
5 Nods Toward Nowhere
6 Her Name Was Tranquility
7 Inexorable, Every Night
8 To Tell You “You’re So Beautiful” Once More
9 Emptiness In the Isolatarium
10 Absolute and Underwhelming
11 Sinking Dance
12 Left In a Sunny Stupor
In ascending order, September.
The lava pools are a steady hue of blood red (1). This doesn’t change throughout the seasons (2). However, after months – almost 1.5 years now, the longer I stare at them on my daily walks through the bolsons, the bubbles seem to turn it into a more burnt orange (3).
In addition, my lungs feel increasingly burned, from nightly chainsmoking (4). I’ve been able to reduce my intake of wine (white wine no longer makes me nauseous) to one bottle per week (5). Usually this is after what should be the most stable day of communication with family and/or friends – of which I’m allotted one day per week, as their schedules allow (6).
In addition, there are nightmares. Reconciliation fantasies (7), or alternate realities of which are the most absurd, with shifting centuries (8).
Lastly, there is the view from waist level, and up, in kaleidoscopic form (9). Everyday is the same. This projected sunlight, symmetrical patterns, tilted surfaces – by now it should be obvious why each direction is the same – it is all simultaneous (10). I’m starting to feel this way as well – I think that is the effect of this place (11). You heard this before, and have seen this before. I’ll leave you with this – stop expecting something to change – because it already happened, you just were looking for the wrong kind of change (12).
All music by Will Long. Created with reel-to-reel tape micro-samples and homemade reel tape flanging
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu at Schwebung
CD, Cassette on Two Acorns (2A28)
2xLP on Oscarson (osc no. 38) oscarson.bandcamp.com