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Immense

by postwriter

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1.
What We Took 05:52
The things I took in High school included: Calculus, Music Theory, AP Bio., AP Chem., Photo & Lit. Mag. Marijuana, Alcohol, Ecstasy & Speed. I balanced studying with partying & graduated 14th in a class of almost 1600. I've always been pretty good at the balancing act. The things I took in College included: Philosophy, Sociology, A.M. Chem., Psilocybin, Ayahuasca, Amphetamine, & Cocaine. I graduated with a degree in Philosophy, which qualified me to ask "Why...Would you like fries with that?" Unsatisfied with a minimum wage paycheck I took to selling the drugs that I did, But the things in life you take, sometimes, will take things from you. Steven was 19 when I asked him to go to Staten Island to do a drug deal for me. The people I contacted did not have the product they promised but they did have a need for the 5 grand in Steve's pocket. And 4 small pieces of high velocity persuasion that left him laid out on a street corner in a pool of my decisions. At his funeral, his mother asked if I would speak for him because Steven always thought so highly of me. The weight of her words balanced with the weight of my guilt finally broke me. And she held me tight and brushed back my hair and said, "Everything is gonna be okay. It's all gonna be okay." I could barely breathe, much the less tell her this was all my fault. I'm not always perfect at the balancing act. Sometimes, when I fall of the balance beam, other people feel the impact. The next to go was Thomas, one of the few people I truly believed could fly if he could just set his sights to it. He died on a rooftop with a needle in his arm and his wings spread out wide because angels were never meant to stay on Earth for long. Next came Lydia, A crack addict before she left the womb. She survived 2 days on a respirator and more than 10 years in my mind. Sometimes, angels aren't meant to even touch foot to the Earth. Then came Amir. He told me that I drew lines when other people drew straws. Amir drew lines on CD cases with $100 bills, his image dark his thoughts dark Amir was never taught that razor blades are not made for mirror or flesh. And I know that you won't rest in peace my friend. But at least now, you can rest. Just last week I lost Dave. A man that I have far more in common with than just a name. We chased dragons together after school. He finally caught one and it killed him. Because the things you take in life sometimes, will take things from you. You can take 2 to ease the pain. But it will only tease you. It will only feed the pain. It's no longer a game when your life is a name on a shuffled deck of funeral cards whose only suits are hard drugs and soft hearts. I know friends who have left last messages on dressers or shoved their messes into bottles and I want to make a message in a bottle that says, "DON'T TAKE LIFE FOR GRANTED." Because the things in life that are taken from you will take you too much time to get over.
2.
When I was 8, my grandfather took apart a clock to see what made it tick. He carefully laid out the pieces on a table with a tight white cloth, slowly laying out each tiny gear, each softly coiled spring, each wooden cog and dowel in order and said that "Time is like a puzzle that we spend our whole lives trying to figure out. But time is not a puzzle you can solve. It's the careful movement of a thousand pieces, of a million people, of a billion possibilities, and it unfolds as it is told and we hold onto it's experience. Set to the tempo of our heartbeats, to the flutter of our breaths, to the rise and fall of our chests, to our best and worst ambitions, to the wisdom of those we allow ourselves to love and whose wisdom we allow ourselves to be moved by." When I was 18, my grandfather was taken apart by a doctor to see what made him tick. He was carefully laid out on a table with a sterile white sheet, and was pulled apart piece, by test, by specialist, until they tapped into place their diagnosis; Trigeminal Neuralgia, or as it's more commonly known, Suicides Disease. Affecting the nervous system of the afflicted, It feels like lightning bolts across cheekbones. He would tuck me in at night under clean white sheets and would whisper, "Son, everyone of us is like clockwork. Every movement, every motion... is clockwork." When I was 28, my grandfather was laid out in an all white coffin lined with loose white silk. And the people whose lives he had moved walked up and put in little pieces of their lives that he had affected them with. He told me that on that day, the tears that I saw would not be sadness. They would be the water that he had sent from heaven to wash away our pain. He told me that day, the last time my little hand touched his big hand, that it would be my time to make sure that the clocks kept running.
3.
Mars Won 03:40
By 2035 we will be on the surface of another planet. This timeline matches the closest approaches from Earth to Mars. Thus reducing fuel cost and communication lag. What it won't reduce, is the cost to human life. The crew of Mars 1 will have a one way ticket. When they leave the Earth they will no longer be able to call it home. We do not have the capability for return flight. Instead they will set their sights on creating a settlement when they get there with the few, the brave, the insane enough to volunteer to be part of a mission that guarantees that they will never live to see the ones that they love again. To feel a cool breeze blow past their cheeks again. No, the know that what they will be giving up will only be everything that we consider to be human. They will be prohibited from having sex for the rest of their lives. A human child would provide too much strain on their already constrained supplies and would endanger the lives of everyone involved in the project. And I project, that the madness that infects this mission is the Carpe Diem of this generation. When the Earth has been poured over like DuPont dreamt, and we can explore no more on this poor painted rock, we will rocket ourselves to other places. "We will spread, we will cover the Earth" is outdated as purpose. For instead, "We will spread, we will cover the sky." With our heads held so high that we cannot see anything else. Like our starving children, our weak and homeless. Anything that threatens to ground us to our humanity, to our Earth, to our dead. So instead we will set our sights on the heavenly bodies. We will not rest until the god Mars' body is under our feet. And what we see that day will be read throughout history. A red flag set against a red horizon. That does not wave, it only stands still. An unwavering sign that we are not ready to fight the god of war if we are still so busy fighting with ourselves.
4.
Bionic 03:12
She was a pressurized cylinder that he loved to dip his piston in. It was more than oil. It was more than lubricant. This fluid motion of hydraulics and precision. The pieces fit. They were meant to. This machinists dream of perfection. The sound of etching serial numbers on plastic. The drag of metal on concrete. The methodical plodding of programming that lead to something greater than their parts. She was a bobby pin twisted into the shape of a ballerina. He was the factory that bottled emotions to make a living. Together they were a system; closed and fluid apart they were scrap. But, they refused to be refuse. Over time, even metal rusts. Over time, even concrete turns to dust in the breeze. Things got thicker, Things got dirty, Viscous is the word. The world is Vicious is the world. The elements have never been kind to machines. So when the time came for them to go to the yard they both drank a bottle of the sweetest emotion they could find. It was a good year. The one where they were first put together at the factory, all glistening and gleaming and ready to do great things, and they listened to the hum of the factory as their gears wound down for the last time. And the last thought that went through their mind was bye binary.
5.
Violence never solves anything. But sometimes to get results, you just want to punch something. Dad put a hole in the wall again. Mom covered it in silence and moved the piano. She always finds weird places to hang new paintings. She's gotten good at covering ugly with beautiful. I don't want to be like him. I want my violence to accomplish something beautiful. On purpose with paper. On paper with purpose. I want to punch holes into 3 ring binders instead of being part of this 3 ring circus. One day, we will make confetti. And it will sparkle like glitter. And the pain we drink will be champagne out of paper cups. When the only hearts that get cut here will be paper hearts. When they're the only things left to be hung in this house. This house, with it's paper thin walls and it's origami love. It's so tightly folded in on itself that it looks like something else. Here mom, I made you a flower. Here mom, I made you a crane. Here mom, I made you a heart. It doesn't beat. The last thing this house needs is more beatings. Pa said, "People, like paper, when pressed, will fold. And when the creases cease to be reassuring it means they're molding you into something more." and I swore that what we had was art. Because I don't know if what we had was ugly or beautiful, but it stirs something deep inside me. And that's what we art does right? So I folded my heart just right. Instead of hole punching bodies, I struck out and not the sheets in front of me. In pen strokes and broken words and folded souls and in the eight and a half years since I have been trapped in that origami box. I have destroyed countless sheets of paper. I have watched 1000 cranes fly away, and the only wish that I made was that the words I put to paper would be honest. and beautiful. and holy.
6.
Last Flight 06:19
Last night, I took the last flight back from the Red Eye. My son was waiting for me. My wife was waiting for me, and I was waiting too. The air cabin pressurizes at 36,000 feet. In life, sometimes, it can pressurize on only two. I started carrying a paper bag with me everywhere that I went. Sneaking breaths in broom closets. I was a success I couldn't let people see my weakness, My dirty little secret. I had learned long ago to let go of complete honesty. It's so much easier to only let them see me through the oxygen mask. Until the day I came home and saw my son drawing and asked, "What is that?" He held up a blank sheet of paper and said, "It's you. I wanted to remember what you looked like. Because sometimes I forget." Breathe In. Breathe Out. Breathe In. Breathe Out. I'm travelling at almost 600 miles per hour. But it's only when I'm travelling home that I feel like I'm going anywhere. Every time I pack a bag to leave something dies a little inside of me. There are no "Good Byes". That is an oxymoron. So instead we started saying, "See you soon!" Which became, "See you later." Which just became, "see you" As if we were all afraid that one day I would become invisible. And the one thing that has become clear to me is that the reason this is called a terminal is because this is killing me.
7.
Immense 05:39
Look at your life. Everything you've said, everything you've done. Look at you life. Is it enough? It's gotten you this far, but is it enough? I'm here to tell you that NO, it is not. The moment you realize that you are worth more than this, that's when you'll start to make a difference. That's when you'll start to fulfill your purpose. Look at yourself in the mirror today and say that whatever it takes, I will do whatever it takes to make my dreams manifest. At it's best, mankind tests the limits of what can and cannot be done. At our worst we will not believe in ourselves, in our abilities, and we shelter ourselves from even the possibility of possibly making a difference. Most men live in quiet desperation. Afraid to make a change. Afraid that deep down they just don't deserve better. But, fear kills dreams. Fear kills hope. Fear can hold you back from doing something you know you are capable of doing. Fear is a choice. You create it. You can destroy it. "Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."-Marianne Williamson There is not a person in this room who is not affected by YOU being in this room. You are made of the remains of when stars explode. Your breath is the dust of the cosmos. You are Immense. You are Powerful. When you change the way that you look at things, the things you look at change. You are going to be amazed at how far this is going to take you. You don't need to prove anything to anyone but to yourself. But to yourself, you need to prove your greatness. Every moment of everyday own up to the fact that you matter. Own up to yourself. You matter. Anyone that has ever been great has had an obstacle they've had to cross. A mountain they've had to climb, and in time it made them grow to step over it. You can let it hold you down, or you can let it fill you up, and build you up until you yourself cannot contain your greatness. You just need to believe enough to leave the rough behind you. Success is formulated through failure. Your imagination is your ability to see in the future where you are going. So if you are going to fall, fall forward. If you are going to fail, fail forward. Where you are is temporary. But in the event that everything seems hopeless, I need you to repeat this litany; It is possible I can live my dreams. It is important that I work on myself. It is not over until I am complete. I am never complete. Because you are Immense. Because you are Powerful. And because you are only getting better and better and better.

about

Immense, the debut album by Postwriter, releases in Summer 2016. It explores the line of human emotions between loss and love, despair and hope, abuse and transcendence. All while visiting the inner turmoil of emotional regress and pushing you forward to the endless expanses of the universe. The intricate guitar looping paced with raw, emotionally driven poetry is in the words of one fan, “Hypnotic. Like I couldn’t look away. Like I never wanted to.”

credits

released July 26, 2016

All songs written by Postwritter

Engineering and Mixing: Paul White
Recorded at The Fathom Tree in Austin, TX
Mastering: Kevin Butler

Dave Weber - Words
Brandon Wilson - Sounds

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postwriter Austin, Texas

Poetry meets Post-rock

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