Stranger Galaxies

by Arcane Study

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03:17
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still more songs to come!

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released 12 March 2014

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about

Arcane Study Antioch, Illinois

I am extremely interested in mysterious and unexplainable occurrences. They are my inspiration. I write and record music as a way to say things that would be left unsaid otherwise.

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Track Name: Transformation:
I often find myself between these words: livid and dreadful. so worked up but then life shows me the actual reach, and I just ask for my piece of meaning. I tried being an artist, and now I'm swimming in a sea of shit.
Track Name: negative
I want to hear the words so just say it. Quit pretending and quit hypo-criticizing, quit fucking hating. You're the same pathetic sap with just a different kind of crap. You worry about the same things, and sometimes you wish for death. And I know what's been eating you alive. It's the emptiness inside, the black hole you keep promising to seal shut. You're just the same as me, maybe none of us deserve to live.

(I will always see myself in that hospital gown, strapped down, no sound. Pissing in the bed. So fucked and never ending. I told the nurse that I was clairvoyant.)
Track Name: positive
(another shitty show far away hoping once again to score. watching, desiring, pontificating as if I ever stood a chance but then again at one point I did. but still it's awkwardly pathetic, every move you've read it.)
Well fuck, let's look on the bright side. No more pointless fights or wasted time, every second for myself. I've been putting off way too much. We're always worried what we got our hands in, but someone's been playing you like a puppet. Can you grasp the concept? Is there any light left? This is the moment I'm changing everything, from this point on I won't drag. Each footstep firm, each step faster, I WILL NOT OFFER MERCY.
It's over but this heart it still beats I still set fire to coals when these thoughts leak, I begin to feel bleak.
It's a start, at least I'm playing my part. You can keep the heart I wasn't using it anyways.
Track Name: ...dreaming...
This is a dreamt up world, stabilized through persistence in memory, thought up so long ago. Just a fragment of a god's thought process.
Cannot feel the fake, the mind that recreates and filters in its own likeness. Cannot mark the date the day that reinstates reality. Can't reinstate reality. It's never coming back.
(you are a figment of his imagination)
Track Name: the serpent
(from the moon he made the order to kill Jesus. from the moon I made the order to kill Jesus. on the moon he sits upon his throne, deciding humanity's fate, he has his hand in everything.)
These colors aren't right, this spectrum doesn't follow the same rules.
This isn't my body, disturbed vibrational restrictions pushing my consciousness through this solidification. I didn't read the script. I'm low and dense not high and fluid, who recruited this cast? Am I replacing Him or are these grandiose complications taking place from overactive neuron fires. More important things replacing my life, devolution of the distinct self breaking me apart. I've forced the rest of you out, you're the only one left, I am at your whim. We aren't two separate beings. I tell myself. I tell you, but here we are talking again.
We all know where this story is going, two shots fired, one in the brain, one in the mirror to disassociate this illusion.
Track Name: Taurus (The Beheading)
My head too heavy for my neck. My brain makes my heart feel dead. Motionless and glued to my bed. As my mind is a constant shipwreck. What stops me from being another face on the street. Another blank stare from an oncoming car. To the empty void inside of me... I hope I can fill you.
(The late night thinkings, the morning repressions, the mid-day despair)
The other day I finally cried about what happened, I felt human for once.

But society is a vacuum, absent of anything important. Anti-bodies of being bum-rushing our stagnant minds, held in suspension by intimidation.
But the resonance of space pulls on mind as my feet stay firmly planted. My blood fights the gravity to get to my brain. My preferred pastimes ruin my spine and hearing, and for some reason I forward my existence. As art shifts from mysterious to ordinary I question everything.
Track Name: this whole fucking scene is overcrowded
I wish to release myself from this deadlocked harness, I truly do. To fly through space and time flawlessly and fluently as others fluctuate around me. If I could break the chains that bind me to an endless repeating day I would soar without hesitation. Free from fear. From fear of death, from fear of mockery. I will leave you all behind to gain insight and wisdom disguised as mental illness. And some will follow in awe and call me something I'm not, but they will learn nothing except reliance. But why ponder when not possible, why waste my time. When I can't clearly see the chains and I can't feel the harness, but I know they are there.
We are fools to think we are free.
But some will spend days looking, meditating on the thought. And with enough dedication they will see, but they will fly off and leave us behind... we return to our daily lives.

There's something strangely vague about the way we operate. It's proven in the way that you think and the expressions you make when you do. Like someone has strings tied to the muscles on your face. Connections have torn worn out from the lack of trust, if you only knew how many times I've contemplated killing you. But I try so hard not to forget, but these ideas I cannot subdue. I'm convinced that they've drilled holes beneath us, and I'm feeling us sink. Watch closely, dead bodies fail to float when they lack a soul.
The anger takes me over, my sanity leaks as I grow older, and my eyes they will turn red once more (a vessel for the devil now) allow me to mark this as the battle that began the war.
Track Name: pristine eloquence
worried eyes cause you removed your disguise.
tame movements 'till the sadness settles.
it forms a pool drowning you.
I don't let go, I can't let go.
you're the purest most genuine being.
Essence of humanity.
Envelope me, develop and recreate me.

I can picture it now, you locked in your room. The pencil to a nub and your fingers are numb. Dried blood on the paper.

Under any condition I will melt and my now fluid existence will form around yours. Harden in a shape you recognize, form a throne for you.