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letra de random access me//mory - decuma

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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 t–th
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 sp-ce
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 sp-ce 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

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