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Tinfoil on the Windows

by soso

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1.
Rubber Rings 09:51
This place is full of injustice and irony. Amid tragedy and disappointment it can be difficult to see wonder and possibility. And it's enough to turn any sober man crazy. I went looking for magic in a city of fair-trade soy lattes and plastic, grey days and a clean, efficient mass transportation system. and I found rooms full of art, I saw spectacular gross displays of wealth and marriages broken apart. People in desperate need mingling with pedestrians and dogs of indeterminate breed. and under a canopy of marshmallow cherry blossoms I found greed. and I'm greedy too. I'll take and take and take like some horrible disease and ultimately leave you. there are no answers. there is nothing to hold. I feel like I'm eight years old... I'm waiting for my father to come home. I'm tossing red rubber rings across the linoleum floor, towards a board of numbered hooks that hangs on the back of the kitchen door. waiting for my father to come home.
2.
Packing my belongings one thing becomes clear: all a man can really depend on is the company of his chairs. I love my love my parents. I won't be embarrassed. I'm comfortable being a man and I take pride in my appearance. and clearly I'm under the influence and too drunk to drive but I do not need saving. I know that local hero shit is wack but that pretty much goes without saying. I've indulged every craving, divulged every dirty detail, told secrets, made promises I knew I couldn't keep. and I've abused confidences, exhausted all second chances -- frittered away like a petty cash advance and I'm spent, morally bankrupt and barely makin the rent, hell-bent on killing myself slowly with these poisons I ingest solely for the purpose of helping me forget. and I will forget. I won't remember this in the morning. Twenty years from now I will not look back on this moment and reminisce fondly.
3.
I've just gotten past not knowing, only to confront getting on with it. And everyone who was once here has since moved on or doesn't care or doesn't care to even remember being here. and I've stained all the wooden bits, collected ashes, carried donkey eyes in my pockets. Kept a lock of silver hair folded in a plain white envelope and stored in a velvet monogrammed bag in the sock drawer. And it's cardboard and black licorice spit. Paint everything brown. Take down all the pictures from the walls and stuff sawdust in the empty nail holes. all I want to do is quit. I've cut all my skin tags off with a pair of fingernail clippers. I stayed up all night listening to the old man's records. Searching for clues under the crackling grooves, trying to remember the intoxicating scent of black shoe polish and booze. and cutting off your finger. refinishing furniture. a dead sister. a dead mother. I now realize that cutting off my thumb would accomplish nothing. There is no nobility in suffering unnecessarily. the absence of suffering is too often mistaken for happiness. work for its own sake is hardly virtuous mom. everything I once thought sacred is ugly and profane. everything goes to shit. everything goes to shit. and I'll be there with my shit eating grin, holding her hand, hoping she likes me on some "I hope she likes me" shit. my sister says my need to please is due to the old man's disease. my mom says it's for the same reason I'm so hard on myself. we can drink to your health, my brother will drink to your eyes, and I won't stop drinking until I'm not thirsty anymore or one of us dies.
4.
Poets and gardeners obsess on the names of things. Poems at funerals always rhyme the same. The lady at the funeral home told me the fudge was to die for. I thought "if I die for anything I hope it's not for something that tastes too much like peanut butter." The cheap public address speakers squeaked out a guns 'n' roses ballad. and I couldn't decide if I should laugh or cry. The morbid creaking of wood announced the entrance of the coffin. My dad knows the names of all the trees. I think about him often.
5.
there's snow on the ground, my friends are the best. You looked really pretty in that wedding dress. and I will confess to having impure thoughts and making a mess, but I guess that's what I want. your mom is in the next room. and you were careful not to fuck too soon. and I maybe too drunk to drive but I'll get us home alive. there's snow on the ground, my mom is the best. She said "never rescue a damsel in distress." and she can attest to my sanity, I won't play it safe and live with regrets cuz that's not the man I want to be. your mom is in the next room. I was careful not to say I love you. and I'd be lying if I said I never thought about dying, just not tonight and not with you. your mom is in the next room. and you were careful not to fuck too soon. and I maybe too drunk to drive but I'll get us home alive.
6.
7.
One Eye Open 05:50
The house was both vacuous and haunted like a museum of natural history but there was plenty of room for my records and a small collection of porcelain dogs. I permanently borrowed a box spring and mattress from my older sister and tossed and turned at night as I tried to grow accustomed to the creaking of unfamiliar timber. and I awoke from a drunken stupor to find your body fit perfectly next to mine and somehow in our infinite semi-conscious wisdom our horoscopes intertwined. You didn't know what you were getting yourself into and honestly I didn't mind cuz almost feeling something, well, that's the closest thing I've had to peace in a very long time. we put tinfoil on the windows to keep the light out (to keep the light out) and there was an old piano that we could try out (that we could try out) I could get so preoccupied with what I no longer had I jeopardized these things that I do. And I may apologize with only one eye open, I'm not totally sure I meant it when I said "I love you" As if I was somehow obliged to utter those words once again. As if you somehow earned or deserved them. You gave yourself to me so sweetly, without motive or prejudice. I guess I'm just a terrible, selfish person. we put tinfoil on the windows to keep the light out (to keep the light out) and there was an old piano that we could try out (that we could try out)
8.
I drove by our old place. Turned down tenth street quite by mistake. It's funny, the tricks the mind plays. It's still ugly and green but I kinda miss those days. Few pursuits are more praise-worthy than seeking to better oneself through education. Typically achievement of those types of goals is cause for long-stemmed roses and celebration. And it's not as if I didn't see it coming, I had the better part of a year to prepare. but I think in my heart of hearts I always knew I was gonna stay here. and we separated our stuff. and even though neither one of us said it, it felt like a break up. I donated all our old pots and pans, plastic Tupperware containers and mismatched coffee cups to the Sally Anne. I never want to do that again. There you were -- somewhere in mind lodged behind five times two, remembering a gift for June 25th and the physical capacity to say "I love you." and no amount of mushroom soup and macaroni casserole could console me. no amount of alcohol or pornography could burn your visage from my memory. and I sought comfort in the generosity of others -- and there were a few -- but ultimately it would never feel right because it wasn't you. and I thought I may never recover. I thought some pretty terrible things. Things you wouldn't say to your closest friend or mother. those days are over now.

credits

released November 13, 2007

Lyrics written and performed by soso.
Music by Maybe Smith.
Produced and mixed by soso and Maybe Smith.
Mastered by J.LaPointe at Archive Mastering.
Drum programming on Rubber Rings by Maki.
Drum programming on Company of Chairs and One Eye Open by Scott Da Ros.
Drum programming on All The Useless Things These Hands Have Done and Your Mom Is In The Next Room by soso.
Field recordings by soso.
Photography by Clark Ferguson.

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Endemik Music Montréal, Québec

Canadian independent hip hop and experimental label since 2001. Originated in Halifax, NS and re-located to Montreal, QC.

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