RAGS - August 11

\i indicates a spoken word passage

August 1. Fallen Friends
Nobody's wrong
Nobody's wrong
Nobody's wrong
But everyone gets hurt

Caught in a crossfire of disheartened words
When nobody talks then nobody knows
But everyone gets hurt


August 2. Incapable, Unrecognizable
I'm here \i

And I can't listen in on daylight
And I can't purify my sickness

Who are you \i

And I can't feel the world around me
And I can't remember who I once was

Who was I? It's getting hard to remember. I'm trying to recall where I came from... but it scares me. \i


August 3. Artless
I once had butterflies in my gut
They turned to knots in my head
I took my heart and pan fried it
It's a meal I don't really understand


August 4. Member of Luck
I was born in such a state of power with such a strength. How dare I complain and squander my gift, but... agony is not a pissing contest. It doesn't matter who hurts more. Pain is pain, regardless of what you were born with between your legs, in which building, and what kind of color it was. \i


August 5. Cardioid
I love my mom.
I love my brother.
I love my dad.
I love my sister.
I love my dog,
and I love this world...
but I'm having trouble loving myself. \i


August 6. Just Lazy
I dreamt that my brother thought I was a fuckup
I woke up and that had me fucked up


August 7. Scratches
I woke up fucking a kni--
Hoping the pain inside would match that on my thigh


August 8. Deep Water
Forget air
Once you jump you won't come up

Fight the fear
You can't swim with muscles full of cement

Singing mollusks rage to drag you beneath the waves
Have no illusions this pool is not your friend

They might lie
They might drink
The facts are obscured under the muck
And they'll lash you when you're found

So learn while you can because survival teaches with no love
And leave safety because nothing hurts like this

So when the water's up to your hair you can bear the pain that will come when you suck a lung


August 9. The Unholy Power of Flight
Stupified and horrified
Wasting my life
The sand slides like a criminal
And I'm not a child

The chronology fades to obscurity
And their all victims of the this imitation dementia

I'm a physical anarchist
Nature doesn't define me
When I fly I'm free from disease


August 10. Penultimatum
Today... is the last day. And I know I'm overreacting and these numbers are arbitrary. I guess... I guess this is... I guess this is just the moment. This is where it becomes real. \i


Happy Birthday
I. 3:47 PM, August 11th, 1998
I have 10 minutes until I am no longer a teenaged boy, and I guess I am hanging on to it because so much of it was wasted. So much of it was riddled with mistakes. There's so much I would like to do over. I know it's impossible, but it's really the one thing I want. A life filled up with regrets is such a horrible thing to carry around, and I'm clinging on to these last 10 minutes that I am technically 19 before 3:47, the minute I was born on August 11th, 1998, I'm clinging on to these 10 minutes like the last lifeline before a bottomless plunge. Because I know I can't come back, and I know that once these 10 minutes are gone, Brian as a teenaged boy will be gone. And while it's an arbitrary thing, and I... I've said this before, it doesn't really matter to me. It's... it's something that's making me realize all the mistakes I've made. These are the last moments of teenaged inspiration I'll have... so I'm gonna use them. \i

II. Dreaming
I've been spending so much time dreaming
Not hopes of the future but living an alternate now

That life isn't enough
Just a partial thrill that dies away like a sugar cube in mud

And while this life sticks like mud on my tongue it trudges forth
An abysmal package that cannot return

Feel it, fear it. Yes, I do fear it. Not what's ahead, but how much is already behind... I can't be stopped. \i

III. Apology
Forgive me. \i