I’m home again.
I’m home again and again and again.
The music never stops.
I ascend and I find him and I face it and yet.
Over and over I try to force it to and it just keeps burrowing deeper into my skull.
Whether it’s an organ or a guitar or a voice or just a fucking ticking noise I can’t seem to make it stop.
I get chills when I meet the instrumentalist.
And I last longer this time.
This struggle is a true struggle.
Last time I practically fell over.
Not a sustainable way to fight.
The seasons don’t fear the reaper.
I’m trying to learn not to.
Home suffocates and strangles me.
It wraps me in bandages and forces me to perform inscrutable rituals that I have forgotten the meaning of in the endless loops that confine me between these walls.
The music is a herald of the prison but it is also a promise of an escape because.
How did they learn this song?
From me?
Did I learn it from them?
Sometimes I wonder if any thought is my own.
Am I no more than a composite of influences and ideas?
What is there that I can reach for but the music?
I do not write of the music we think we know, I write of the music that so many of us can never escape.
This is a music of pain and suffering, a music of deep evil.
But it is also a music of transcendence and beauty.
It must be.
I’m home again.
Back at the start.
I know that I have grown and learned and changed but the doors are the same and the floor is the same and the walls are the same and the smells are the same and I do not feel that I have grown at all.
It is funny how understanding clicks into place but it is not funny that I cannot escape any of this.
I found one angle to see everything differently but this angle has not shown me a way out and that is what I need that is what I am truly looking for.
I’m home again.
I try to convince myself that this time feels different but some part of my body rejects that and now I’m back at what feels like square one I don’t care that I have different tools now new options available to me I feel like I’m going in circles and sometimes I literally am so it just fucking scares me and pisses me off and I can’t do what I need to do because I can’t fucking get out of this
Loop.
It’s not a loop, it’s a spiral.
Every time around moves me in some direction.
Up, down, left, right.
It may not feel like it but I am moving.
This circle is not yet closed.
Have you ever found a corpse of someone who looks exactly like you in your dreams?
I hope that I haven’t but I know that I have dreamt of things that I do not remember.
Some dreams do not live in my memory but they must still impact me.
I am afraid of those invisible dreams.
I wish that I could turn the things that haunt me into monsters that I could kill.
I know that monsters are not any easier to kill or understand than abstract concepts and webs of exploitation.
But at least I would feel like I’m making progress.
But I know that isn’t true that is not how that would feel because I have felt that I have fought the monsters and they are terrifying.
The monsters do not make any more sense than the ideas.
The only reason I keep fighting is because there is no other option.
Am I supposed to simply lie down in this single spot and wait for my body to decay?
Am I supposed to simply lie down and wait for my soul to crumble and capitulate?
No.
I will fight this.
I will find a way out.
We will.
All of us.
Do not forget.
Do not lie down.
These walls can be brought down.
These monsters can be slain.
These spirals can be escaped.
