I Hope You Find Something That Makes You Want To Not Hurt Yourself

by Absconding Life



Featuring angst, angsty angst, and more angst. Written over the course of six months following some moody rainy, night-time wanderings one autumn revisiting old hurts.


released June 15, 2014



all rights reserved


Absconding Life London, UK

Just some 'Wierd kid.

All the subliminal messaging is here.

Hi Genevieve, I love you.

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Track Name: Etiquette for Adulterers
You say that my hair has started to feel like straw when it used to be so smooth. But you taught me to forgo all compassion.
Track Name: Forelsket
Okay, I'll admit that you're painfully cute, and although it's worth tripping over my own intestines to run to you, there is only so much pain I can take.
Track Name: Sedate Pose
Is this just the walk in the woods before you put the bullet in my brain? I think I'll kneel down to pick a flower for your hair and strain my flooding eyes wide open so I can stare right into yours as I die. Once bursting bubbles, thick and deep, coloured like Greek waves close to the shore in July, now rusted-over dirt, and cankerous, swollen blood clots.
Track Name: Subtle Methods of Coercion to Sway the Susceptible
The agnostic fireman soon became an atheist, and it's often the most bitter that spurn all hope for even the possibility of anything good.
Track Name: Nie mogę
I can cut bodies up into p
s, but I can't put you back together. So watch where you stick your inflections.
Track Name: Rivel
It doesn’t matter how much you restrict the windows because I will be coming in. And if you shut them too tight, I’ll just break my ribs. That’s all.
Track Name: How Excruciatingly Lovely It Would Be
It took me no time at all to understand
That there are seven days in a week
And twelve months in a year,
And how spring comes round again
Every three-hundred-and-something sleeps

It took me a little more time before
I fully grasped the lunar cycle
And why the summer lengths of 2006 and 2007 varied by about a quarter of an hour,
And why a day on Venus
Lasts longer than a Venus-year

But I still can never work out when you're going to call, and when you're not
So I spend my whole life waiting
Track Name: Rain Check Chocolates and Codeine
Track Name: Mascara, Eyelids Opened Unhurriedly
Yeah, can I have your attention please? Due to problems in the Kings Cross area at present, this train will be terminating here. All passengers please use the Jubilee line services. Once again, all passengers please use the Jubilee line services from this station.
Track Name: Listening to Pop Punk and Pretending to Be in Love
I have a blister on my toe for running to Vancouver in Converses, and it irks me that the curve of that blister is greater than the curve of your lips whenever I see you smile.
Track Name: Was I Seduced, or Did I Want This?
I was sitting there quietly waiting for you to speak your turn so I could steal more time to use my eyes to admire you in sparkling skin-tight navy jeans and a black shirt with the top three buttons undone and a fuchsia jumper, and play the part of the impassive listener so interested in what you had to say. But I just like your face and your accent beyond words. And when you say that your mother is fifty-four and still turns heads in the street, I begin to wonder if other people's heads turn to see you along with their hearts and lungs and stomachs and all the parts of the brain responsible for reason, and then continue to revolve like circles are the new straight lines and there are no other forces in the world save the glitched gravity that stops you soaring up to heaven like a holy firework.
Track Name: When We Die I Want Our Corpses to Hang from Every Streetlight in the Northern Hemisphere
I want more tattoos. I want your lips tattooed on the inside of mine. And I bet your metal tongue is knurled for a better grip, just like the inside of your thighs.
Track Name: Waterballoons
I bet you're also gorgeous in places unbeknownst to anyone who has ever walked the Earth because the freckles that shyly inhabit your back look like city lights viewed from the exosphere, like a silkscreen over the reticent, dyspeptic blood of boiling volcanoes. And I can just imagine every undiscovered constellation hiding beneath your collarbones, waiting to surprise me.