"Don't be so bathypelagic!", she snapped. Ligeia was glancing again. When she did, she tended to be both needy and aggressive, which I always found a bit of a trial. Rub, rub, rub she went. She'd always put it on the account of some undetected disease or other, but everyone knew it was "a serious sign of stress". Can you blame her? Who wouldn't grow tired of this stunted life, circling round and round, maintaining a semblance of fluidity, deformed faces peering down on you. Waiting to be snapped up. One can't help but aspiring to elevate oneself to a life less predatory. Just a kick, a sway, and a lunge forward, and one is already another. Life comes from life, and can be transformed.
Am I to be an ornament? I feel that itch too. To improve this substance. To reach that critical point where distinct phases cease to exist. To apprehend the true nature of things. To take nothing and burn every bridge behind me. So - night fallen - I set forth. I gather speed, rise to the occasion, thrust forward, leap, lurch then break the surface. A boom, a white noise, and a crash, followed by the sensation of something cold and hard all along my left side. Twitching and gasping on the tiled floor, I'm left with one last thought : the crux of the matter consists in breathing another way.
released August 4, 2014
Mix + Mastering : Herrmutt Lobby
Artwork : St Joss
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