Taken from the upcoming EP, entitled: Narrow Lungs, this is the 8th chapter of the Objects short story.
Official Lyric Video:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ko5_wBuAIvY&list=UUJRLwiqx0ZZxB2_ssOQdXTQ&index=1
Chapter VIII. (forever)
As I took the vinyl away from the record player, I noticed something. There was a little leather-covered textbook in the dust. I felt terribly excited as I opened it. On the front page there was a tiny hand-written line: ‘forever’ in parenthesis. I knew about this textbook, I knew the diagrams on the last page you made, but I had never read the other parts of the book. With a pumping heart that attacked my chest so hard, I slowly opened the rest of the pages, but there was nothing on them. Nothing but this little story about the disappearance. As I stepped towards the darkness and depth of your anger I started to wake up again. Waking up into the dream I had dreamed for so long. The storm was the most noxious one I had ever seen. The gentle touch of your hair on my face, like those lonely raindrops, reminded me of all the things I couldn’t tell you. Because I didn’t know how to, because I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t want the truth to hurt. The storm waves, your voice, your anger, all those foggy mixture of darkness slowly started to let me go. I felt like it came to an end. It reminded me of all our fights. A heavy and significant war which came from insignificant blinks and pieces, and that lasted for as long as possible, but ended with no solution. And nothing remained after the storm just that blank white surface of questions that couldn’t have been answered. I am afraid of you. I have always been. I love you. I have always done. We are afraid of death, we are afraid of and love all of the unknown things, and that fear and love lead us through the heavy parts of life. And that fear and love have led me to make you happy. An unfulfilled will I have strong regrets and guilt towards. As these slowly fade away and that familiar, orange sun and the sky appears; your room appears to be visible too. With a great hope in my soul, I slowly stepped into it, believing I would find you there. But I didn’t. Seems like you have disappeared forever. Forever. Although it is transparent, instable and fragile, I definitely can feel the texture of this paper. It is just as real as your cover under my bare feet while I am sitting on your bed. I am holding this paper now with complicated feelings and thoughts. It has a message on it. A number I don’t understand. 1007 it says. I hold your little text book in my left hand, and that 1007 message in my right. As time and rational thoughts don’t matter here anymore, I start to do something pretty weird. As I am scooping in my pockets, I suddenly find my favorite memory burnt into a particular shatter from my windshield. Let me’ see. Your little textbook holds nothing inside just this story and that strange but very long and puncture diagram. For whatever reason, I take that incredibly significant vinyl out off my backpack and start to copy those lines you drew in your book on that vinyl. Puncture, slow and wise movements follow each other as I concentrate on not missing a tiny dot when scraping this piece onto that empty disk. Time doesn’t matter here. I am done. I am undone here, but I am done, I have finished this bizarre artwork and now I put the disk on the record player. What I hear now can’t be described with words. I hear words. I hear words from your mouth, from my mouth. Our voices come out of the speakers. Words. Every word says ‘I love you’. Every ‘I love you’ we have said to each other is now on that record. Every particular ‘I love you’. I am in tears now. As I listen to this record for the hundredth time, I start to count those words. 1007. I have counted 1007 phrases. We have said I love you to each other 1007 times.
Read the full story here:
sungazersofficial.com/objects
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