Comment: WILL3

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In reply to comment: Hey there's all three of 'em :) (see in situ)


I immediately took to the struggle, but I'm still warming up to the air here. It's good to know they are from the same can. Air has likely been lingering at his website for some time then, now timeless. Struggle matches better for me the lyrics you posted. It also provides a worthy resolve to stuff. Air ironically takes me back to stuff, Central walks/trudges me out of it, and Darklight I hear as stuffless.

His Will to Death must certainly have been difficult to lay in words, but we remain unaware of artists not compelled to communicate. I read the bulk of his description with a consistent "Well, Maybe!". Paradoxically "maybe" does not arise as the obsatacle of my own perspective with which to clash, but it's more a hurdle that acts as a filter to weed out tangent of my own focus that I may attend better the simple essence of what's being displayed before me. The particularly detailed dimensions and mathematics of models can be quite personal and nonessential, even disrtacting in passing to another individual perpective. I do my best to do what I know to be done, and at his final synopsis I saw that he was actually quite in sync with general models of traditional gnostic philosophy, as am I.

Upon the Darklight I flashbacked to what I was doing at roughly the same time, or a bit prior perhaps. I had not really touched much of any instruments for some years, any recording devices I had not touched for much longer. In the months leading up to it I had been immersed in what seemed to be exclusively two things, Jon Krakauer's "Into the Wild" and the Velvet Underground. At some point I was compelled to find some neglected and haggard instruments, a sh!tty microphone, and a cassette deck. I proceeded to record a lo-fi requiem for Christopher McCandless. I had latched onto the notion of his last semi-consious moments as he slipped away. Of course I am not Christopher but John. As such I had only myself and my own mind to place at the back of the bus...

I don't know if it's actually listenable to anyone but myself. Well, myself is even somewhat questionable. I enjoyed listening to it a couple times on a long drives through nowhere, and now it simply awaits my potential relapse into heavy drugs. Should that ever happen I'm going to pull it from the rack and pop the it's cork, see how well it's aged.

I then recorded this in attempt to clear my head and focus...

Then this to resolve my darkness and face the light of life and its survivors...

I keep thinking the winters get longer each year, but as I listen to that stuff I'm reminded that this last winter may not actually have been the longest. It certainly was a relief to make it out of the bus and enjoy the spring that year.