issue #1 June 25th, 2009

This isn't what it looks like. We aren't what we look like.

Eathelin H.

Let me make something very unclear: I wouldn't want you.
And I am not going to tell myself otherwise
because I've found a new place to secretly hide.

Let me tell you how much I hate myself for what's been done.
I know that I'm wasting away before your very eyes,
now that I have the chance to leave what's behind.

I want to rip the flesh from my bones.
I want to see these streets that you own.
I want to scream out how I truly feel,
I want to figure out what's not and what's real.

I want to hear the beat of your heart.

I want to stay in your warm, safe arms.

I want to fill these holes in my head.
I want to crawl back into my bed.

The heart on my sleeve is the weight on your back.
I want to make this perfectly unclear: I wouldn't want you.
I want to jump out of this car I steer, I know I don't want you.

And when you walk away from me, I'll let you go.

This isn't as hard as it looks, because I wasn't counting on you, anyway.

"What the Dickens!" Dickens being a euphemism for the Devil, this lovely little phrase basically translates to, "What the Hell?!" You can thank The Bard for this one. Now use it.

"Bellytimber" A 19th Century slang term meaning "food". If bringing this back doesn't make you feel like a lumberjack, there's no hope for you in this sad, sad world.

heroin tears

eathelin h.

Picking upside-down daises out by the chain linked fence, writing off the lives of everyone in this world, you shudder to think someone else could possibly exist.

the heroin picks up with the wind, shattering the glass as if with a baseball and antagonizing the umbrellas and feathered ladies.

everything's so funny. the clouds laugh, the trees laugh, you laugh as you sit in the grass and pick, pick, pick. you laugh till you can't breathe, till you're choking, till you're crying, till you realize you needed to cry from the start.

your echoes hit the graffiti walls with a hard smack and tumble back again, your words hitting you square in the jaw. it couldn't've hurt worse and soon the chain linked fence rusts and the heroin clatters around in your muscles, making you stiff and achy. your eyes feel scratchy and you rub them constantly, burying your thoughts deep in your neck...

your life's like a ball and you're the bounce-back kid.
everyone knows why you did what you did.
and now that the field is muddy and void, you gaze through the playground you came to destroy.
but you couldn't bring the hammer down upon the swings.
you couldn't bring yourself to do anything.

Friday, June 12, 2009 I wish it were a simple injury---so simple that you might look down at the injury and tell me my problems were to heal on their own. And you'd mean it. And you'd hold me for a second (because it would never be much more than that, and I had always known so much) and it would comfort me and you would send me to sleep and advise me to dream with the angels. Dream with all the angels in that bright blue infinite painted-with-pearl-clouds sky where they live. That same sky in which I have replaced wonder with doubt. I'd walk down the hall and I'd do as you say and the next day would be a brand new day, after I lay me to rest. A temporary but beautiful rest. A rest of forgetfulness. A rest of passing, of peace, that I could always turn to. 'Stead of this pain.

Oh fever dream, I feel ill.

Johno Martin
Binary Star "Too bad they only had one CD, kinda reminds me of Cannibal Ox, really impressive MCs."

Roberto Faust
WAVVES "delightfully distorted, self-absorbed surf punk anthems"
Black Bear "reminiscent of 'The Unicorns', electronic organs and drum machines with endearing lyrics concerning subjects ranging from wanting to be a Black Bear to writing letters to your ex's parents"
Uzi & Ari"A one man band; shoegaze influenced, with post-rock crescendos, original 90's emo styled lyrics and soft-spoken vocals"

Michael Webster
Sunset Rubdown "Canadian indie rock from Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade, Swan Lake, and Frog Eyes. Sunset Rubdown's newest album [Dragonslayer] is more accessible than some previous releases, with more of a live, stripped-down production. Spencer's voice carries his abstract and distant lyrics. Fresh to death."

Q- "Why do communists hate driving stick?"

-incoherent mumbling from your lovely friend-

A- "BECAUSE THEY'RE ALWAYS STALIN!!"

Was looking through the digital pictures and I had to try to write an explanation down for the sunrise.
I think a sunrise has more to it than a sunset in some respects. you don't have the entire day sitting in the back of your mind, so you go into the setting in a fresh start. And with that comes more potential for any sort of reflection. Sunsets sometimes seem like a pretty (and sometimes unnecessary) decoration on a cake, or that last hopeful moment after a night out, when you say goodbye to the friend who drives you home. Sunrises present themselves with no pretense. They are muted force that fill you quietly into order to push your spirit out for the day. They are a powerful inspiring word, like trust, assure, yearn, ascend, scale, soar, thirst, learn, acquire, pronounce. A foundation I suppose. A foundation that we miss all too much. I have never attempted to explain that in words before.

let your ears take a peeksy at these great summer traxx

Golden sun and inequities
and I'm happy to dream again
to slip into pure subconscious
to experience universal thought
to burn for 1000 generations
to lose existence
to lose reality or downright un-reality
And in my dreams I am starlight
A billion pinpoints sparkling
And I live for the starlight
And lay out on the moon for countless eternities considering existence
-anonymous

Loveseats

I'll say I built this house of twigs for its razing to feed your hunger.
I'll forget I decorated the rooms inside with your favorite colors,
forget I arranged the loveseats to suit where I thought you'd want them....
Did I forget to put in any windows??

Round and round the fire run your dark eyes; they drink it and spit it out, your pupils small metallic reflections.
This isn't what I had in mind, and certainly not what I wanted.

It's just what I expected.

I dont wanna lie and flourish
go beyond simple flattery and self fulfillment
justification and validation to just what is and isnt
paint a picture with a thousand connotations
thats so ugly it ignites in hate
And the darkest corners hide the most beautiful moments
life is in a laugh a beautiful high that comes just once
and moments slip by 1/30th of a second lag leads everything to the past
Some stars are unreachable, some peaks best left untouched
Some things hurt too much to bear but give such perfect clarity that they cant be ignored, like staring into the sun on a hot august day till purple explosions blur everything and makes it all fade away
Sometimes good people dont know theyre good and villains have delusions and everyone doesnt get their own insignificance and profound importance, the juxtaposition that reality is trapped in, interposing us between death and life justifying each other in great big circles, cyclical structures rolling through life
And im embarrassed and alienated and arrogant and self hating and noble and despicable and sad and numb and joyous and the highest of highs leads to the lowest lows
uninteresting and stuck forever, mired in everything and up to my neck choking on all the phony bullshit pervading my mind and thoughts of worth and value have no meaning and never did
Cracked pipes blowing crazed choruses in a room full of emptiness
-anonymous

mucho, mucho gratitude to our contributors on our happy first issue:
Ayla Eichler
Sean Jude Elsasser
Roberto Faust
Eathelin H.
Johno Martin
Ben Parham (for he is always brimming with wit!)
Michael Webster
Bobby Wehrenberg (when the HTML gets tough, he be fixin' shit)
Jake Weinberg
Book excerpts: "No Exit" by Jean-Paul Sartre, "Henry and June" by Anais Nin (respectively)



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