Random access me//mory

By Decuma

On in the end, we were all undone.

Released on August 4, 2020

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[VERSE 1]

I can no longer speak to elicit responses

I find it limiting;

It's the reason my humanity's splitting

Perception rippling

You could blink me out of existence, but I guess it's fitting

Considering I use art to try and make a living

You can really find irony in anything

In reflections, I find my memories festering

So everything feels like posthumous gesturing to hysteria

You'll find your fears will ferry you further than any affection

If the world won't oppress you, don't fret, store-bought is fine

Atop the mountain of ego and masculinity, I had valiantly crowned myself untouchable

Love became something to suffer through

You'll find everything is deeper purple, and cold blues

Freshly exalted, ruling over a world of fools

You'll find yourself roaming in rows of snow caps

Alone, speaking with the wind as footprints track

Even at the peak, solace is lacking

Can't even call myself a solopsist;

All I know is I know nothing but self obsession

The solemn saboteur's could claim his land by de jure

But what would he gain from that?

There's so much to take, and yet, there's nothing to obtain from that

Every time I find the truth, I move the line corresponding to objective fact

How could I ever keep myself intact?

I found myself trapped in the snow caps

Unable to hear myself think past chattering teeth

What could this body ever mean to me?

Nothing about it makes it me

Why am I letting this break me?

Tear it apart, rend at the spirit, disassemble me X4

The only way to escape yourself is to run in place and consume the empty space

I hope to fade away with grace


[BRIDGE]

Here, i find myself

Dissembled

Compartmentalized

Scattered across adjacent thoughts spreading farther and farther

Becoming abstract

Becoming incomprehensible

Failing to become self

Failing to become self

Failing to become self


[VERSE 2]

I am the abstraction mankind sees itself in

We make faces of clouds, animals of stars, and gods from skies

Isn't our nature so naturally wonderful, yet conceited?

We didn't have a purpose, so we dreamed it

Made pictures so our kids could see it

And made language so parents could speak it

And yet, we still struggle to teach it

When stretching outwards, it's hopeless to reach it

How are we to approach a kindred spirit?

Hat in hand, begging for new fulfillment?

Wounded men approaching wounded men with words instead of gauze, trying to heal them?

You'll find everything is deeper purple, and cold blues

With long rivers illuminated by colder moons

In the quiet of the dusk, there's space to think

There's several expressions of self made of paint, and yet the blank canvas is the only one that felt accurate

You'll find yourself identifying with the stars

Shrouded in darkness, wandering the infinite with zero guidance

With nothing but our memories behind us

That's so wonderfully human, and so terribly us

And that's so terribly human, but so wonderfully us

And that's why I reminisce to try and justify us

As if the stars ever needed a reason

Here, I find myself composed of deeper purple, and cold blues

We complete purpose ad nauseam