So I thought I’d have some fun and cover one of my favorite songs. Live video this time, so no Lydia (unfortunately). It’s far from perfect, but I’m just glad I’m finally able to play the song (a little bit) as it's really fun to play! I should probably invest in a better mic for recording as the screaming bits cause the audio to peak and crackle a bit. You might want to keep it fairly low so it doesn’t scare the crap out of you when I suddenly start shouting. Music and Lyrics originally by Chris Cornell/Soundgarden Fell on Black Days Whatsoever I feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile Sunspots are faded. And now I’m doin’ time. Now I’m doin’ time… Cause I fell on black days I fell on black days Whomsoever I cured has sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled I’ve put you down Searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right When I get it right… Cause I fell on black days I fell on black days How would I know that this could be my fate? What you wanted to see good has made you blind What you wanted to be yours I’ve made it mine Don’t you lock up something that you wanted to see fly Hands are for shaking, not tying Not tying… I sure don’t mind the change
Here's a rough recording of an acousitc duet that another forum member (Lydia) and I did together. Not too bad for overseas recording, eh? Lydia is singing the lead and I'm playing the guitar and singing harmony (mostly). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it! Music and Lyrics originally by Audioslave: On a cobweb afternoon In a room full of emptiness By a freeway I confess I was lost in the pages Of a book full of death Reading how we'll die alone And if we're good we'll lay to rest Anywhere we want to go In your house I long to be Room by room patiently I'll wait for you there Like a stone I'll wait for you there Alone And on my deathbed I will pray To the gods and the angels Like a pagan to anyone Who will take me to heaven To a place I recall I was there so long ago The sky was bruised the wine was bled And there you led me on In your house I long to be Room by room patiently I'll wait for you there Like a stone I'll wait for you there Alone And on I read Until the day was gone And I sat in regret For all the things I've done For all that I blessed And all that I wronged In dreams until my death I will wander on In your house I long to be Room by room patiently I'll wait for you there Like a stone I'll wait for you there Alone
Ethan awoke to the soft creaking of his bedroom door. A small, blanket wielding silhouette stood wavering in the pillar of light from the hall, casting a stark shadow through his softly illuminated room. “Daddy?” It asked meekly. Ethan rubbed his face and eyed the digital clock on his nightstand. It was 2:14 AM. “Yeah, Emily?” he croaked tiredly. “What is it?” His four year old daughter popped her thumb out of her mouth and itched her belly. “They won’t let me sleep,” she answered nervously. Ethan sighed. “Is it the monkeys again?” he asked, noting the clock tick to 2:15 with mild annoyance. His daughter shifted reluctantly in confirmation. The monkeys had become a nightly fiasco. “Well, did you tell them what I said?” he asked as he clicked on the bedside lamp. “I told the big one, but he just laughed at me.” Ethan sat up and probed the floor with his feet in search of his slippers. “Just laughed at you, huh?” “That’s what he always does,” she added dismally. Emily wrapped her blanket around herself and looked hopefully at Ethan’s bed. “Can I sleep in here tonight, Daddy?” Ethan thought a moment. The proposition was tempting. If he allowed Emily to sleep with him, he would waste no time confronting these ‘monkeys’ and could get a bit more sleep before he had to get up for work. But if he didn’t deal with these fantasies immediately, they might only gain strength in Emily’s mind, keeping her (and consequently him) awake for many future nights until she grew out of it. He decided on the former. A little payment now, a greater profit later. “Now, Emily,” He started, nearly wavering as her cherubic face pouted knowingly. “I fixed that room up so that you could have a place of your own to sleep. You’re a big girl now, so it’s past time that you started acting like one and sleeping on your own. I-” “I want to sleep by myself, Daddy,” Emily interrupted. “But I told you. The monkeys won’t let me sleep.” “There are no monkeys, Emily.” “He told me you’d say that,” Emily whined, her voice growing heavy with welling tears. “He said no one would believe me.” “Oh, Em…” he said as she began to sob freely- her little face scrunched and wetter than he’d thought possible. “Come here…” She abandoned her blankie and all but sprinted across the room to his arms, nearly tripping over her own feet in her eagerness. He hugged her tightly, nestling her warm little form comfortably against him. “I believe you sweetie,” he said, patting her back firmly. “Sometimes Daddy has dreams about things that seem so real to him too. It’s just something you realize when you’re bigger.” She cried into his shoulder for a bit longer, then stopped. They sat quietly for some time, a little wet sniffle breaking the affectionate silence every so often. Finally, Emily spoke up again. “Why can’t I be bigger now, Daddy? I don’t want to see the monkeys anymore.” “They’ll go away before you know it, honey.” “He said they’d never go away,” she said. “Who said?” “The big one.” “Well, he’s a liar, then,” snapped Ethan, grimacing at his curt tone. “He said you’d say that,” Emily said with a sigh. “He says everyone says that.” Ethan didn’t know what to say. His daughter was making this much bigger than it was. “He said nothing of the sort,” Ethan said impatiently. “He’s in your dreams.” “He said he’s in your dreams too, Daddy,” said Emily weakly. “With mommy.” Ethan shivered and shoved the grizzly scene of rain and blood and the cold, dark highway from his mind. He hugged Emily tighter, siphoning her warmth. It helped. “When did he tell you this, sweetie?” He asked slowly. “Just a little bit ago. He said he’d say hi to mommy-” Emily choked on a sob “for me when I left.” Ethan’s blood ran cold. He snapped his daughter away from him at arms length, his anger flaring. Emily’s innocent wet eyes looked back at him in alarm. He took a deep, steadying breath and relaxed, brushing a lock of dark hair from Emily’s face. “He said what?” “He said he sees her every day and….,” Emily trailed off as if afraid to finish. “And WHAT?” Ethan nearly shouted. “He says that I can see her too if I want,” she finished. “That he can take me to her.” In those next moments, it took every ounce of strength Ethan had in him not to slap his daughter- to not toss her angrily on the bed and yell at her. How could this be? How could she invent such things? These were not the kinds of thoughts that cross the mind of a four year old by themselves! Emily seemed to sense his inner struggle and latched onto him like a leech. He let her. “You would never hurt to me, would you Daddy?” Ethan winced and his anger washed away. He looked down at her, noting her small innocence and was ashamed of his inner turmoil. “No, Emily. Of course not.” He kissed her on the top of her head and felt her smile into his chest. “Then, you’re right,” she said happily. “Right about what, sweety?” “The big monkey is a liar.” Ethan’s hand balled into a fist and he clenched his teeth tightly. Something was not right here. It was clearly something that could not be handled completely tonight. He scooped up his daughter and put her in his bed. “You’re sleeping in here with me tonight,” he said. Emily smiled and snuggled back against his pillow, pointing to her blue blankie with one hand. It was bathed in warm yellow light from the hall. Ethan smiled in spite of himself and went to fetch it. Leaning through the doorway to grab the blanket, he became distantly aware of the darkened doorway at the end of the hall. Emily’s room. It sat there smugly, daring him to investigate. Ethan walked strongly (or what he hoped appeared as strength) to the door and stood just outside it. It seemed to laugh in his face. There he was. Safe in the hall. Safe in the light. Despite the alarms in his head, he stepped into Emily’s room and walked to its center. He could see most of it in a sort of pallid, city-night light, but the corners were completely lost in seemingly impenetrable shadow. His skin prickled with static and his insides screamed at him to leave as the dark corners bristled dangerously. The closet was open a crack. He was sure he had closed it earlier at Emily’s request. Did she open it during her nightmare? Hard to imagine she’d be willing to go anywhere near it… Something gnawed at the edge of his mind. It was a primal instinct- one that flares to life only when a seemingly close yet unseen presence intends to cause one harm. Ethan suddenly decided that he did not wish to investigate this matter any further tonight and, with a rapidly beating heart, he began to cross the eternal gray twilight of Emily’s room. His peripheral vision seemed to stretch out before him and the brilliantly lit hallway appeared as some distant horizon at the end of an ocean of oily blackness. It was all that ever existed- just him, the door to the safe and comforting light, and the overwhelming perversion of darkness. He imagined the door beginning to shut and electric crackles of panic bounced around inside of him as it began to actually close! His legs quivered clumsily in panic as he moved to break through the veritable brick wall of malicious will that both froze him in place and casted him out. He nearly lost his feet by tripping over a stuffed duck and paid for it by stumbling into the door frame painfully with his shoulder causing him to fall-spin comically out of Emily’s room and onto his rump in the hall. The clean, well lit hall. It really couldn’t have come any sooner. Relief gave Ethan a cleansing wash as the door stopped its effort to close with a small creak and he felt more than a little foolish. Hadn’t it always done that- always closed itself about halfway after one opened it and left it idle? It had. He remembered now. He got to his feet and massaged his shoulder tenderly. It was truly amazing what a tired mind could do to one’s perception! Ethan peered into Emily’s room. It may have been because he was standing in the light, but her room looked considerably less dark now. The stuffed duck he had tripped over in his ridiculous panic stared gaily up at him with its glossy plastic eyes. He was about to enter the room for round two in the boxing match with his fears but was suddenly quite aware of the time. He needed to get some sleep for work in the morning! The battle with the monkeys (and his disturbingly overactive imagination) would need to wait until tomorrow. He recovered Emily’s blanket from the hall floor before returning to his room, convincing himself that the gravelly laughter he heard buzzing around Emily’s room behind him was yet another act of a fatigued mind.
A song I wrote- music too. I think it's one of my proudest pieces of music yet. If I ever get around to recording a decent version of it I'll post it here too. In Medias Res The world The world was all before them Hand in hand Eyes forever forward Feet entwined Down wandering paths that slow Through Eden They took their solitary way The time has come Crawling Down paths of weeping twilight Weaving Songs of softest silken light Dreaming Under ivy columns Longing For the broken past that was The time has come
My Dear Quetzel, I think it would be wise if you’d be more cautious about revealing too much of yourself to your patient during your nighttime appointments. I understand all too well the wonderful ecstasy that causing fear can bring, but I also understand how easy it can be to get carried away and reveal all of yourself. Be assured, the joy that would come to you by causing fear of the supernatural in a devout atheist would be deliciously sweet indeed. The problem is that a full on visual encounter would shake his perceived atheistic world view to its very core. However tasty it would temporarily be, you simply cannot allow this to happen. If he were to see you, the probability that he would seek spiritual council is much too high for comfort. Normally, this in itself may not be such a bad thing so long as we can introduce him to our sort of spiritual ‘experts.’ (I prefer to call them pets, as that’s how they’ll end up in the end.) But alas, in this case the Enemy seems to have strategically placed this newcomer, who has already rather annoyingly introduced himself to your patient and has proved, with his sickly kindness and calm demeanor, to be even more dangerous to our cause than I had originally anticipated. This just goes to show you; NEVER underestimate the power of one of His slaves, no matter the ridiculous appearance of their overbite. Unfortunately, this one’s mind is almost completely cut off from our influence. His former tempter, Deredroll, has long since been assigned to a different patient and, based on his old reports, this sad sack of flesh has been one of the cheeky few to have a visual encounter with our self righteous, yet enslaved brethren. Because of this, there is simply nothing we can do to get through the Enemy’s veritable stronghold that is this human’s mind. Your efforts to keep your patient focused on the slave’s physical appearance and lack of education have FAILED UTTERLY. Do not foolishly press forward with this effort or else your patient may begin to feel guilty, which would be counter productive to our cause and may open a door for the Enemy to minister his silly forgiveness and salvation tripe. So do you see the devastation that getting carried away may cause? Rest assured, there will be time enough for pleasure when your patient is safely tucked away in the private little nook we’ve prepared for him. The few hours of pleasure that revelation might bring today simply aren’t worth the likely irreparable damage it could cause. Now, I do not mean by this letter that you should leave your patient alone completely; that would be nearly as dangerous as revealing yourself. An unmolested mind is the Enemy’s pulpit, after all. Instead, it is often more productive to spread fear of the unknown by remaining oppressive, but just on the edge of your patient’s mind. I’m afraid you simply cannot be as liberal with him during nighttime appointments as you were when he was a child. Children are easily educated by our older patients that their night terrors are simply the work of an overactive imagination, and that they’ve just got a brilliant, vivid mind. (This is a perfect catalyst for pride, if you aren’t paying attention. Sew the seeds whenever possible.) In time, they will forget all about you and dismiss your hours of torment as nothing more than a childhood ‘phase,’ or, if you’ve sewn the proper seeds, a sort of 'rite of passage' for an artistic mind. If you simply cannot hold out and need the release, why not take a brief break from your patient and have your way with the child next door? There you may reveal yourself and torment to your heart’s content, with little consequence. Be prudent that the child doesn’t have experienced Christian parents, else they will likely send you sulking back, sniveling and pathetic thing that you are, to your patient. Your Superior, Amethyst Chief of Human Affairs The Third Circle P.S. You’ll notice in this letter that I refer to your appointments as nighttime appointments specifically. They WILL remain taking place during the night only, Quetzel. I understand the temptation that arises during the day when you’re dreadfully bored, but you should be more productive at those times. Plus, if you can manage to avoid causing fear, it will likely encourage your patient to all but forget his silly fears from the night before and dismiss them. Suggest that he was merely a victim of an overactive imagination during the witching hour. It’s only ‘natural,’ right?
My Dear Quetzel, I am dismayed to learn that your patient has found a new friend at his place of employment. And a Christian one at that. Don’t panic just yet; let us open up with our main attack, which seldom fails. When this new fool displays kindness and other virtues, remind your patient that this is a person from the same lot of the one who touched him when he was a small boy. If that does not turn him completely off to the idea of a friendship, (which it most probably will) remind him that he is a ‘realist’ (I do so love that term, don’t you?) and his new friend does not have a higher education than he. The more we can equate his atheism to intellectual supremacy, the easier it will be for him to dismiss such trivial virtues and associate them with a lack of knowledge and a naivety of the world around him. Keep him focused on the visual problems with this newcomer, such as physical appearance. This way he'll pay less attention to what his new friend has to say and more attention to the crookedness of the fellow’s teeth. If you can achieve this, it will most likely cause their new ‘friendship’ to be nothing more than a sort of dull tolerance. You can then effectively encourage him to pat himself on the back for his kindness and understanding of the beliefs of others. Once he begins to feel good about himself, it will make it that much harder for the Enemy to reveal his flaws. Pride, after all, is one of the greatest characteristics of Our Father Below. The more we make them like Him, the more likely they’ll end up safely in our clutches in the end. Your ‘Realist’, Amethyst Chief of Human Affairs The Third Circle P.S. Why not introduce your patient to that naturalist fellow you told me about? His advisor, Muckroot, is a personal acquaintance of mine, and a truly skilled one. I think I shall write to him and tell him of your troubles. Perhaps we can arrange a meeting between the patients?
"I know you wouldn't do anything like that." Do you? I wouldn't? My mind calls me a monster. Or, rather, my mind is monstrous. According to my mind, I am the most jealous person in the world. If I acted on all the thoughts that came into my head I would not be a very nice person. I would be a murderer, racist, sexist, thief, cheater, liar, and jerk. Luckily I do not act on most thoughts that enter my mind as I do not agree with them, nor am I convinced that they really come from me. To keep it simple, no matter what evil, perverse thought enters my head I still have the power of choice. I can freely choose whether or not to act on them. So if you find yourself having troubing thoughts, or thoughts that might scare you, I want you to know that you are certainly not alone and I do not think that most of them originate from you to begin with. As long as you choose to not listen to them, to ignore them, or to simply contradict them right then and there with your own thoughts (as I have learned to do), you will find it easier and easier to recognize which thoughts are really coming from you and which aren't. "But where are they coming from if not from you?" Well... That's something that we can talk about later, if you wish.