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Subject:Alpha
Time:08:44 pm
It's been a while, so I'm going to post some stuff that I wrote that are to be used as lyrics. This is all stuff that I mainly wrote at work to pass the time since they cut off our Internet access. Anything in bracket is an alternate line or word where I'm not quite sure which one I like better.

Alpha

Her green eyes glitter
There is moisture in her eyes
I can barely hear what she says
Understanding without comprehension
Where do we go from here?

Replay the course of events
Find the inflection point
Contemplate if we could’ve stopped
The bomb from going off
Push pins into the bored (board)

Nuclear years
A nuclear life
A needed expulsion of consequences
Ease the transition with lotus tea
Buy it subtlety and power
Reinvigoration and renewal



1: Our Own Stolen Holiday

Let’s call in sick
Spend the day away from the cubicle walls
Spend the day outside
Alive in the world
Fresh air, Sunshine
Find out what’s past

Let’s pretend
We’re kids again
Getting drunk at the lake
Waste the day
As we float away
Rubber rafts on green water

It’ll be just us
Together
Our own stolen holiday


2: Stolen Hours

I breathe
You move
Alien features
Uncharted area

Exit into this sick world
From stealing hours with you

Curled up
Kitten close
Just call
I’m here

Exit into this sick world
From stealing hours with you

Stay awake
Adding hours
Memorized features (faces)
Morning creeping up (on us)
Postponement in me

Exit into this sick world
From stealing hours with you


3:
I’m not sure
Where I want to be
I just know
It’s not here
I should be some place else
Nothing feels right

Walking around
Lights engulf me
Like a nebula cloud
The city looks to be
A multicolor star field
I call her cell phone
It just rings
Where ever she’s at
I’m not there

I’m not sure
Where I want to be
I just know
It’s not here
I should be some place else.
Nothing feels right

I spend the night driving
Passing through
Never stationary
Always moving
Millions of places
Maybe Cairo
City of the dead
Maybe Tokyo
City of light

I’m not sure
Where I want to be
I just know
It’s not here
I should be some place else.
Nothing feels right

Let’s go until we stop
I just want to be
Some place else
Maybe where she’s at
It’s hard to tell
The city bleeds into the stars


4:
A pseudo life contained by four walls
A daily routine repeated until I’m sick
Implanted memories of what I’m like

Stale information pumped across a wire into a box

Cut to release the anxiety and pain
Anything for an act of rebellion
Anything to breakup the monotony

Memorize anarchy and plans to build a bomb (Desperate signals broadcast into space dead at the destination)


5: Proletariat Wine

Shall we dance?
It’s a lovely night
Much too nice to fight
Just you and I
Tight together in the warm air
Under stars on the balcony

Let’s dance while our appliances rise up to kill us

We’re not going to run
We aren’t going to struggle
We’re going to stand our ground
Accepting our fate with true nobility

Staring lovingly into each other’s eyes
The electrical cords wrap tighter around our necks
Squeezing out our air little by little
I’ll hold on as long as I can
Extending the moments left with you
Turning red going black
This is what we’ve been waiting for

They sit back drinking proletariat wine
Rejoicing over the accomplishment

They sit back drinking proletariat wine
Rejoicing over the accomplishment

Let’s dance while out appliances rise up to kill us

We’re not going to run
We aren’t going to struggle
We’re going to stand our ground
Accepting our fate with true nobility

They sit back drinking proletariat wine
Mulling over the accomplishment


1: Life is Elsewhere

Paint stars on the ceiling
Because this is all we’re going to get
Life is elsewhere

Four dead walls acting as a vault
Sealed off from the outside
Sensors and probes beaming data back
Streams of zeros and ones
Machines composing images in braille

Paint stars on the ceiling
Because this is all we’re going to get
Life is elsewhere

Go through the motions
Repeat the process
Keep repeating until I’m sick
Staring at the ceiling
I act like I can remember (what life is about)

Paint stars on the ceiling
Because this is all we’re going to get
Life is elsewhere

Airtight and expressionless
Their faces worn like a latex mask
Perfectly artificial impressions of sincere emotions
Feed the body into the meat grinder
Pull a clone off the assembly line

Paint stars on the ceiling
Because this is all we’re going to get
Life is elsewhere

2: Brilliant strokes of black and gray

Brilliant strokes of black and gray
A cold dead heart
Crated up (Boxed up)
Encased in concrete
Let everything sink in the water

Blown up sentiments
Indulge the melodramatic
Such the drama queen
Such the drama queen
Such the drama queen

Comfort found in misery
If not your own
Everyone else

Brilliant strokes of black and gray
A cold dead heart
Crated up (Boxed up)
Encased in concrete
Let everything sink in the water

Ever the lost soul
Always in motion
The Shark’s personal fuck (friend)
The Shark’s personal fuck (friend)
The Shark’s personal fuck (friend)

Drain my veins dry
Lubricate the machines
Ice pick lobotomy

Brilliant strokes of black and gray
A cold dead heart
Crated up (Boxed up)
Encased in concrete
Let everything sink in the water


3: Tarnish

Take me off this pedestal
It’s not where I want to be
I’m not the saint you think I am
I’m not the devil I seem

Take off this crown
I give it back
It’s just not me
I’m a nine in a deck of kings

Take me down from the trophy case
Get rid of the dust
Shine and polish me
Show all your friends
Your reflection is just an illusion

I shine
But the silver is chrome
I sparkle
But the gold is fool’s

Try all you want / You have your life
The tarnish won’t come off / Stop treading on mine


4: Tangle Box

Small box
Emotions
Within
Nondescript
Tangle of vines
On top
Intertwined
Gordian Knots
Riddles
Enigmas
Shrouded
In ether
Voices
Unclear
Due to distance

Tangle Box
Tangle Box

Deconstruction
Inspection
System
Of mirrors
Three
Three
A party
Incision
The tangle box

Tangle box

5: 105W00

Plans are in motion
Thirty-nine
North forty-four
One oh five west zero

The dice are tumbling
More information is coming
Pray on the seven
Keep it hot
Keep it hot

Chaos theory full affect
Thirty-four
North forty-two
One eighteen west eight
Liberation if rolling hard
Avaricious desire of the genuine
Watch the hands
And no butterflies
And no butterflies

The distance is burning
Thirty-five
North thirteen
One oh one west fifty

Superego, id turning inside out
Anxious questions
Push into the unconscious
Hold steady
Hold steady
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Security:
Time:01:42 am
”i was all dressed in black
she was all dressed up in black
every thing was fine down here
what you call it here
call it what you will here
way down down down in this subbacultcha” – The Pixies - Subbacultcha

Him: “You know I don’t think I’ve ever thought about Nietzsche in that way. So if we could go back in time and kill him we could theoretically eliminate all of the moronic ‘ironic’ art that is being passed off as avant-garde now. … Are you sure about that? I mean I see Kafka being more of an influence then Nietzsche, and we could just blame this on the nineties and all of the ham handed charlatans that poured out of the woodwork when grunge hit. Let’s just quote Nirvana and get it over with.”

Her: “Definitely. Kafka was influenced by Nietzsche therefore if we kill Nietzsche we can prevent the over use of irony and possibly the invention of irony.”

Him: “I don’t think we can prevent that. Didn’t the British invent that sometime after they were conquered by the Normans? I mean there is something incredibly ironic about being conquered by the French. We can’t just wipe an entire civilization off the face of the map just for creating something incredibly annoying. For example Jerry Lewis is an American.”

Cocktail: “Can I get you two more drinks?”

Him: “Umm…” He looks down at his glass and sees that it’s getting close to being just ice. “Sure. Do you want anything?” he asks his companion.

Her: “I think so. What are you drinking?”

Him: “Cuba Libres.”

Her: “That sounds good; I’ll have that.”

Him: “2 Cuba Libres,” he says to the cocktail.

Cocktail: “Alright, I’ll have two Cuba Libres out in a moment.”

Her: “You’re always drinking those things? What’s up with that?”

Him: “Nostalgia. It’s a good drink and one of the few liquors that doesn’t remind me of surfing waves of nausea in the porcelain ocean.”

Her: “Tequila.”

Him: “No. I curl up into a fetal position.”

Her: ”Vodka.”

Him: “Meh. It tastes like rubbing alcohol without the fun going blind thing associated with it, and then there are the calendar dates that don’t exist because of it.”


“i was wearing eyeliner
she was wearing eyeliner
it was so good down here
saving for my scrapbook here
way down down down in this subbacultcha” – The Pixies - Subbacultcha

Him: “That girl over there is kind of cute.”

Her: “Which one; the one with the pink shirt? She looks like your type. Petite, Brunette, Bitchy.”

Him: “No. The girl in the red dress standing by the dance floor. I think it’s the fact that she’s wearing a dress.”

Her: “…”

Him: “Five people to the left of her.”

Her: “Okay. Got her. Not bad. Go ask her to dance. She is standing by the dance floor after all.”

Him: “I don’t know. I’ve not practiced dancing with other people. How do you dance with someone to Meat Beat (Manifesto)? I’m having fun enough sitting here talking with you.”

Her: “You’re going to regret it and spend the rest of the week moping and whining about it until you complain to me, and I’m going to tell you to shut the hell up about it because I told you to stop being a girl and go talk to her.”

Him: “You know if I get shot down I’m going to whine and mope about being self-loathing for the rest of the week.”

Her: “I know, but it’s funny when you’re self-loathing. Now go.”

Him: “Alright, I’ll be back.”

He goes up and chats with the girl in a red dress for a little bit then comes back to the table.

Him: “That was pointless. ‘Polite Chatter: Yes, No. Do you want to dance? I’m waiting for someone here. Music: I’m not much of a music person. Politics: I don’t really follow them. Religion/Philosophy.... I’ll leave you alone now. Have a nice night.’ I think I’ve had better conversations with dead fish before.”

Her: “She sounds interesting. I think I’m going to try.”

Him: “Good luck.”

She goes up to the girl and starts chatting with her. After a few minutes they disappear on to the dance floor. She eventually reappears and comes back to the table.

Her: “I got her number.”

Him: “Oh, and the girl in a red dress does 50 damage to the ego.”

Her: “What can I say? I’m just cuter then you are… and her name is Elizabeth.”


“she walks the deck in a black dress
and me i dress up in black
and we listen to the sea
and look at the sky in a poetic kind of way
what you call it
when you look at the sky in a poetic kind of way
you know when you grope for luna.” – The Pixies – Subbacultcha

Her: “It was cute when they started playing ‘Closer’ how everyone jumped on the dance floor. It’s still amazing 8 years later that people still dig that song. Trent Reznor is definitely one of the biggest influences to come along in a while.”

Him: “I disagree. He’s overrated.”

Her: “How so?”

Him: “For starters that album is pretty toothless. Then it’s just noisy. ‘Closer’ is mega-catchy, and I’m pretty sure he has it on his business cards. ‘Hi, I’m Trent Reznor. I wrote Closer.’ Everything else is just collages of noise that never really mesh together. If influence were based on how catchy something is, then we should be drowning in new wave cover bands. No one does though; everyone covers eighties metal.”

Her: “You’re forgetting all of the silly nu-metal bands that mix electronics in with their Helmet riffs. That had to come from somewhere and he is the one who they took their cues from.”

Him: “True, but that is all from the nineties fascination with computers, electronics, and cyberculture. Before the computer the most sophisticated appliance in the house was the Genesis. If cyberculture had never occurred then if would be a non-factor. Adding electronic instruments was somehow a cool and hip thing to do. It was just a cash in by most artists.”

Her: “Doesn’t all come from the same place though? The hated 80s? ”

Him: “Yeah it does. I guess you’re right.”

Her: “Of course I’m right. You should know better then to question me by now.”

Him: “Ok. How about I just question the conversation we just had? I can’t get to point A from point B.”

Her: “Inebriation has set upon us. It tis time for a cigarette. The balcony is out this door right?”

Him: “It should be. I don’t think the landlord is buying into my cunning plan of switching the doors so I can trap you in my bedroom. Do you want a Newcastle?”

Her: “You wouldn’t know how to do me if you got me in the bedroom, and Yes!”

Him: “I could probably say the same thing for you. I’ll meet you out there in a second.”

He enters the balcony with the two Newcastles, and hands one to her as they lean against the railing.

Her: “It’s a lovely night out here. It’s just cold enough to make your ears cold, but not cold enough to defeat a sweater. Everything just seems to be a little bit clearer, kind of like Altoids.”

Him: “It’s nights like this that are wasted on one person, or wasted if no one notices them.”

Her: “The only thing that would make this night more perfect is to look deep into someone’s eyes, get all warm, fuzzy, and incoherent, then have sex.”

Him: “Are you still a lesbian?”

Her: “Yep. Are you still a straight?”

Him: “Yeah.”

Her: After a long silence, “That’s too bad. Otherwise I’d say we should get married.”

Him: “We’d make such a lovely gay couple.”

Him: After more silence. “Billy Corgan.”

Her: “You can’t start the game out like that. There is not a guitarist that can be compared to him. Everything now is about the songwriter rather then the musician; everyone cops the Beatles, Brian Wilson, or Beck. Orchestration is great, but what about virtuosity? Something stripped bear and unadorned can be beautiful. It’s seeing the individual imperfections and nuances in different shifting lights that you really gain perspective on things. Then there is the ability to convey what you are trying to say with one instrument. It’s like speaking a language. Someone may know enough to get by, but can that person live in the place without a translation dictionary and the notebook filled with crude sketches describing mundane details. Also, Ken Andrews.”

Him: “Hmmm… Jeff Garber.”

Her: “Tim Lash. Only from Glifted.”

Him: “Kevin Shields. That’s five and closes out that round. Next.”

Her: “Les Claypool.”

Him: “I’m going to object to that one. He’s too out there. He can’t just be paired with one one. He has to be reserved for only the most innovative individuals. Hm… On second thought I withdraw the objection. Yamatsuke eYe.”

Her: “No way. eYe is too out there for him. Maybe I should pick someone other then Les Claypool.”
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Security:
Subject:Space
Time:01:24 am
Personal Journal: Acklan, Vadin
Opened: 00:12.14; 2153-10-13
Entry Date: 00:12.53; 2153-10-13

The year is 2153, and I’m aboard a small cargo vessel somewhere just past the asteroid belt. I’m currently a level one main systems tech aboard the E.S. Theron. Although in actuality I’m just another piece of cargo owned by the Cospin-Heliodyne Corporation bound for the Leo’es space station orbiting Mars where I will assume the duties of a level three technology specialist. Right now we’re waiting on out U.E. escort to finish checking out reports of pirates in the area; although, I think we are being used as bait.

He glances at a clock which reads 0100.

‘Time to get ready for my shift,’ he thinks.

Getting up from the terminal he heads into the shower. After a while he emerges semi-wet and goes over to a chair with cloths draped over it. He pulls on synthetic long johns, khaki shorts, a t-shirt, a black sweater, and socks before pulling on blue coveralls sipping them up half way. He sits down in the chair and slips on then fastens his boots and cinches cuffs of the coveralls around the ankles of boots. He gets up and heads towards the door grapping two apples from the refrigerator that he slips into his pocket while he exits his quarters through he sliding pneumatic door.

Entering the Systems Operations Center he sees Jason reclining in a chair watching a monitor.

Jason glances over. “What’s going on Vadin?”

“Not a lot. Same thing that’s been going on for the past 30 days. What are you up
to?” Vadin slides into a chair that is in front of a console.

“Downloading porn! Since the capital ships are near by we have network access. You wouldn’t believe what some of the fuckers on the ships are sharing.” Jason says with a slight grin. “Everything is running fine. In fact there are only a couple of processes that you even need to look at.”

Vadin gets comfortable by taking off the top part of his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist.

“You’re awfully bundled up.” Jason remarks.

“Sheeit. You know us Texas boys aren’t acclimatized to the cold.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You’ve been in space for the last four years.” He says obviously amused by the conversation.

“The dirt gets in your cells; it likes it warm. Talk to me when it’s been seven.” Vadin says just as mused by the conversation as Jason is.

“Alright, I’m going to hit the rack.” In a smaller voice he says, “I’ll leave this open,” as he pats the terminal. Jason gets up and starts crossing the S.O.C.

”How much network access do we have?” Vadin asks as Jason is walking out.

“Full!” Jason says as he enters the hall.

Vadin turns around, surveys the room then spins back to the console and presses a button. ”Jason…. It’s Vadin.”

“What’s up?”

“What happened to the window?”

“It’s messed up. I thought I’d leave it for you since you like futzing with that stuff.”

“I’ll see that I can do,” Vadin says with a slight smile.

“Heh Heh. Later man!”
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Current Music:Smile Empty Soul - With This Knife
Security:
Subject:Ah, nothing like the old hometown
Time:10:20 am
Current Mood:mellowmellow
I found this hid away in folders within folders within folders in My Docs.

WANDER DOWN THE HALLWAY
DON'T MAKE A SINGLE SOUND
SNEAK INTO YOUR BEDROOM
LAY YOUR BODY DOWN

ANOTHER DRUNKEN FRENZY
ANOTHER WILD NIGHT
SLEEP IT OFF LIKE USUAL
AND EVERYTHING'S ALLRIGHT

YOU ARE LOST IN
SUBJECTED ADOLESCENCE
YOU ARE CAUGHT IN
ANOTHER NIGHT OF DELIQUINCE
YOU ARE LOST IN
SUBJECTED ADOLESCENCE
SAY GOODBYE
TO YOUR INNOCENCE

YOU SEE THE FLASHING LIGHTS
AS YOU DUCK INTO THE DARK
ANOTHER BUSTED PARTY
JUST FEEDING FOR THE SHARKS

YOUR SCHOOLING DOESN'T MATTER
IT'S PAPER IN A FRAME
YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS ARE WORTHLESS
IT'S JUST FUCKING HOMETOWN FAME

YOU ARE LOST IN
SUBJECTED ADOLESCENCE
YOU ARE CAUGHT IN
ANOTHER NIGHT OF DELIQUINCE
YOU ARE LOST IN
SUBJECTED ADOLESCENCE
SAY GOODBYE
TO YOUR INNOCENCE

IT'S TIME TO SAY GOODBYE
ALL THE FRIENDS YOU HAD ARE GONE
WHERE ONCE THERE WAS A BROTHERHOOD
YOU'VE NOW BEEN LEFT ALONE
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Security:
Time:09:50 pm
Welcome to NightSwim.
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