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G0dfxck SL0p 4 BrechhFa​$​$

from Lunar Affair by Monarcadia

/

lyrics

Ash in my cereal. Bugs in my hair. Her love sauce is crusting all over me, and I'm tired of hearing about the signs, tired of hearing about all the signs that people see pointing every which way; I wish some of them would point at me. I spew poetic-sounding slop and you call it breakfast. To think that God is a "where," not a he/it/heshe/they/she/what/he/who/am/is/what/where/why, for places can be any color. I paint mine to remember that you're only a prisoner if you have a reason to go outside. Maybe do you want to go outside? I never want to go outside. I just want to stay in all day and rot in the cereal I've been eating since day one.

Go, far away. Go far and pray. Keep praying. Keep muttering. Keep stuttering. Keep saying all the stupid little things that you say to yourself to keep you up at night and keep you going through the day. I only have one word of advice, and that is: to be "cautious"--which is more than just a word--but walk in like you own the place. Be cautious, but walk in like you own the place...like you own it, but you think that everybody is trying to kill you.

[scream]

It's cool, I know you're all ashamed of me. I know you want what I can't give because I'm so afraid of things like pain and persecution. I've been using since I turned 16 to medicate this thick screen I put between people and me: sheens of smoke to make the daunted choke and back away, and forget ME, but I'm like everyone else, I mean I'm a little hedgehog trying to navigate a balance between alien and real talk, real talk. Real talk. Real talk, real talk, real talk…. Real. Talk.

[guttural]

And you get more and more disgusting every day--every mirror cracked and coddling your face, mocking you and all your loves that call it truth. All these pretty little doves are calling you, calling you, calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you go go go go go slow slow slow slow slow go go go they're calling you calling you calling you go go go go go calling you calling you calling you calling you. I'm tired and cranky, my body feels like giblets matte-gnashed by beastly maw, my selfhood dangling from a snarl. Pure allegory of a bloodletting, sheer medicinal vocab. Muscle sinews backstop to point zero. Zero. Zero, they're calling you. Zero. They're calling you and they're back. They're always back. They hide in your brain. They jump out and they poison your cereal. You get excited by the lights. The still orange streetlight pixellated by its dispersal in the water. Like some old Atari game, a Vegas marquee like lights on a sign from the side. You spit in the water--spit in the water--and then you drink the water. Sleep all the way. Sleep all the way. Sleep.

[catharsis]

credits

from Lunar Affair, released February 21, 2014

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Monarcadia

Monarcadia is musician, intermedia artist, and poet Alaric López.

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Since 2012

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