I don’t like blaming other people because it’s so much easier to change oneself than other people. I don’t think it makes much sense to worry about what made you ill.
Susan Sontag • The Complete Rolling Stone Interview
it’s been a while since i’ve posted an album write up, i’m really close to finishing my newest blog (about thotcrime) but i feel like after that goes up i should take a minute to do a full postmortem and tribute to this band i love so very much, thank you Tørsö, for all you’ve done
Tørsö - Everyone Is Sick & Pigeonholed, from Sono Pronta A Morire (I'm Ready To Die)( 2015).
can't fix that brain. just give it drugs. half the population needs to feel numb. years of abuse washed down the drain. sedate us all, so we can't feel real pain. captivated by outdated words. don't look to yourself. everyone is sick. there's no profit in health.
policing the parts that are too small to see. taking much more and i'll just want to scream. walls closing in. can't catch a break. wise up - it suffocates me. easy to snap. break over a knee. breaking the mold. can't have your way. wise up - it suffocates me. emasculate. de-feminize. lay it to rest. let it go.
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
So they show their relations to me and I accept them,
They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.
I wonder where they get those tokens,
Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them?
Myself moving forward then and now and forever,
Gathering and showing more always and with velocity,
Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them,
Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers,
Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.
A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses,
Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears,
Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground,
Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.
His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,
His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.
I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion,
Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.