Sinking Ship from Flesh Hole by Junkyard Shaman

I have become something I never wished to be,
how could I ever have foreseen any of this?
A being of physical existence, neurotic hostility
cast in flesh and blood, bones framing the anxiety
I carry with me everywhere.
No matter what I tried
I always failed miserably.
I wish I could play NOTHING, leave room for emptiness,
let it fill my music as it has filled my consciousness,
but there is always too much noise
all this noise that keeps interfering,
filling up the bladder and pissing all over it.
I hate it. I can only create piss,
stupid and meaningless noise, not silent enough,
always too loud, full of noise
always too this and always too that,
never enough
no
never little enough, just noise,
too much noise.
I never wanted this.
I never expected this.
I never longed for any of this.
But this is the sinking ship
that I am strapped to.

• Experimental
• ambient
• avant garde
• drone
• post-industrial
• sound art
• Taipei