ive been listening to sufjan's new album today, "the age of adz", and there is a song called "i walked". here are the lyrics:

Lover, will you look at me now?
I'm already dead to you
but I'm inclined to explain
to you what I could not before
Whatever you didn't do, what you couldn't say
I am sorry that the worst has arrived
For I deserve more.
for at least I deserve the respect of a kiss goodbye

Tell me, do you think of me now
as I think of you?
For I could not have shaken the touch of your breath on my arm
For it has stayed in me as an epithet
I am sorry the worst has arrived
For I'm on the floor
In the room where we made it our last touch of the night


I walked, cause you walked
but I won't probably get very far
sensation to what you said
but I'm not about to expect something more
I would not have run off
but I couldn't bear that it's me
It's my fault
I should not be so lost
but I've got nothing left to love


Lover, will you look from me now
I'm already dead
but I've come to explain
why I left such a mess on the floor
For when you went away
I went crazy. I was wild with the breast of a dog
I ran through the night
with the knife in my chest
with the lust of your loveless bite


I walked, cause you walked
but I won't probably get very far
sensation to what you said
but I'm not about to expect something more
I would not have run off
But I couldn't bear that it's me
It's my fault
I should not be so lost
But I've got nothing left to love

I walk, 'cause you walk,
I walk, 'cause you walk,
I walk, 'cause you walk,
I walked, 'cause you walked,
Yes, I walked, 'cause you walked.
Yes, I walked, 'cause you walked.
Yes, I walked, 'cause you were mine.



beautiful, aint it? grab the new album and take a listen.

happy october

was it the drugs
the green ones when i was
turning twenty
and i dripped all over
mixing in with the stains
in the carpet
opaque grey punching out of me
when i didnt think this was all fucked?

He awoke to the sound of hammering next door. It was late in the morning and the sun had warmed his apartment causing him to soak his sheets in waking sweat. He rubbed his eyes and they made a squishing noise. He could smell the stale air sitting silent and intrusive. That’s right, he had forgotten to open the window last night. The hammering continued and light chuckling began a conversation with it. He sat up, his foggy eyes and stiff elbows a few steps behind him. Pressing play on the stereo, “Overseas” by The Tommy Flanagan Trio is halfway finished, it was a charming song and also ironic, he thought. There was a note on the coffee table when he reached the living room, “Rest Easy” is all that it said. The wood of the small oval table had multiple ven diagram stains from beer bottles left out too long. Franny wasn’t meowing and that was unusual. “Overslept like me,” he thought, shuffling to the pantry and grabbing the Meowmix. He at first had reservations about buying it. It was shit food, McNuggets for cats. He caved of course because Franny was very picky and also very overweight and almost always hungry. She was probably sleeping behind a couch or under a bed.

He shook the bag. That almost always worked. No response. “She will come out when she needs to,” he guessed. The living room was dark and that made him uncomfortable. Opening the blinds cleared the room like the shaking of an etch a sketch or the wiping of a scrawl-filled white board. The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Clayton, its Martin.” Martin was his best friend and his business partner. Martin never slept a minute past five a.m.

“Oh hey Marty, what’s up?” His words catching on gravel in his throat then shooting into the phone’s receiver.

“Did I wake you? You sound like shit.”

“I overslept.”

“Well are you going to make it in today? Should be a busy one.” It was going to be a busy one. The new collection of busts were coming in today. He fucking forgot.

“Yeah of course. Did you already put out the new shipment?”

“I just put out a few limited editions for display but I’m going to need someone’s help to get the rest out on the shelves. Is Sam coming in today? I couldn’t remember.”

He stared at the note, the ring stains on the table, the closed windows. He leaned back up against the south wall.

“No she isn’t.” His voice was sedated like a dial tone.

“Alright well then I am really going to need you to haul ass down here, the traders will be here soon.” Marty hung up. Franny wasn’t sleeping. She was gone. Sam had taken her last night when she left. Sam had left him and taken Franny. Sam had left him. He stared across the room at the front door as if it were going to suddenly evolve into a mouth of a vacuum and suck everything that was left out of the apartment. The phone rang.

“Hello.” His voice was hollow.

“Sam just called the store,” it was Marty. “She said she’s quitting. Did you know about this?” Marty wasn’t angry, he was flustered. Lots of things flustered Marty.

“Yeah, she told me last night when she left.”

“Left? Where? Did she go out of town?”

“She left me. She took Franny.”

“Jesus Christ. She took Franny? But Franny is your cat!”

“I will be down at the store soon.” He hung up. His chest was inflating. His right hand gripped the phone tight; his left gently rubbed the back of his neck. He was staring at a skeleton. The apartment appeared now as only early blueprints before the construction began, just lines and numbers on thin sheets of paper, an outline of what was and now wasn’t. Then, as if the universe had suddenly gave him a gentle squeeze in his side, Clayton laughed.