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A New Uncertainty

by Holy Profane

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1.
I see you've taken to care for the streets where I'd wander aimlessly for years, and how beautiful those days now seem, they were so mundane when they were here. So I've come to find that no permanent setting Is lucky enough to see a daily sunrise, some environments wake as others take to rest and I've yet to take to closing my eyes. They've seen every night as a tightrope, where I'd walk the thinnest line between directionless exhaustion and evenings wild and alive, so when these situations shift I'll let them carry me along to the places where I chase this fulfillment on the run. I've never seen towns shine as bright as these since they've been freed from their routines and all the people that now occupy are so warm and inviting. We know that time has its limits, we won't hesitate to take advantage of these minutes, this life in our hands which was suppressed and shelved when clocks offered luxury, now I'll spend all I have so that I can advance to a clear dawn on the horizon, a tight grasp and a steady ground where I discover every hidden facet waiting to be found, and every tangible experience I am able to collect marked and checked across a sprawling map
2.
Safety Net 03:41
Life has always offered enough complication to give a man an excuse to dream. He imagines solace and hopes for situations that suspend themselves far beyond his reach. I was climbing the rungs absent-mindedly to the sun up above as it warmed my neck. I fell through that vague intangibility, that illogical prospect was my own empty promise. Life has always offered such great potential that those who seek it often overstep its limits. They expect it to provide for the boundaries of their imaginations and are scarred accordingly with the blunt of its indifference. I would seek out the most attractive opportunities and wherever I would roam I just assumed there was safety, but with a clash of ideals progress shatters easily, cannot expect such a fragile thing to shift with flexibility. Though life should always be met with courage, it's with arrogance that a man does proudly set the bar. As he is promptly blindsided by disappointment, he acts as if he is undeserving to take that fall. I would love to believe I deserve such a fate where I achieve a level of happiness that suits my desire, but no guarantee is offered in holding expectations, and no selflessness is shown in a race to acquire.
3.
With each dive into danger, do you ever feel certain you'll be able to pull yourself through in the end? or are you content to slip away as the tide begins to rise, knowing you'll receive credit for simply diving in? but who needs to know you could never follow through? no one needs to know you could never follow through. When you're singing some old song, do you ever stop to think about what all those clever words are trying to convey? how they lament over what could have easily been? all those chances you let slip that won't return again, but who needs to think twice? just sing it right on through. You don't need to think twice, jsut sing it right on through. Yet here you are eternal, forever staining every mind with elegance and beauty before you swiftly leave behind any trace of warmth or interest that I could ever find from that short-lived opportunity to be one of your kind. With each new revelation, do you still grow discontent knowing you can't hide from all those thoughts that you prevent from reaching ears that only wish to learn and to grow close to the ideas and perspectives you're so privileged to hold? but if you're discovered it's best that you run away. If you're discovered you just run until you escape. so as each soul hurries past me, I can't help but to expect countless more to lead the way only to misdirect, and I'll forever write off those who grant so warm a welcome only to grow cold with the changing of the seasons, and I'll have to leave to find more temperate conditions. You'll ask me to leave to find more temperate conditions.
4.
sometimes you only wear a smile so you can hide from honesty. To enjoy each other's company, we need to maintain stability. We'll only grace the outer edges of our personalities, so that no one needs to recognize the state of our fragility, though we attack as hard as they do back, so no one could prove to be as innocent as they would like us to believe, we're an endless exhange of apologies, and not one of us means harm. often you set the standards that cloud your perception of others. you place them to play the part, written perfectly into your life, only for you to feel betrayed should they decide to stray, as if you could capture and lock such restless souls away. Though we're amused with the thought of the chase, at all the caustic statements thrown with such haste, that deny us from seeing past our false perceptions, we're an endless display of criticisms. and not one of us means harm, but god, would we like to believe it.
5.
so disregard those fears that have been plaguing me tonight. raise your glass and cheer to celebrate your changine life, and once again inspire me to examine what I've got. I'm only pretending to need the things I don't really want. sitting in silent contemplation, revelations don't seem kind with all the friends that you had made you would rather leave behind, and in our heads this idealism seems so intangible, after offering such warmth to minds left out in the cold. Driving through the night with this reflecting glare of lights, apathetic voices saturate our repetitious lives. I'll be taking in the beauty of the atmosphere tonight, while breathing out regret for opportunities not seized in time. so remember the passion that once burned inside my head, I've been spitting out the ashes to find relief from this weighing dread. I would rather find simplicity and compassion in these plans, so could you please not hold me back from being the person that I am?
6.
I can feel my demeanor changing with the faces in the room, with my blurred sense of self inconsistent and confused. Shrug it off and stumble forward into some awkward new plan. Shrug it off in time to collect some half-hearted experience that won't ever be as meaningful as it was when it began. Potential dies as inspiration washes from my hands, and collect myself, there's so many accomplishments to grasp, or hold myself together when I realize these feats are far too vast. so I would calculate and I'd measure for years, til my desires grew too tall to build. watch them collapse and shatter, I have never felt so free wandering these ruins, so vast and empty. So I can be any person that my mind imagines myself to be, but the person I project is not the person I can see. Should I feel this helpless if I can't alter perception? Should I feel trapped within your absolute yet inaccurate opinion that I'm flat and one-dimensional, that no more of me can be discovered? A personality so predictable it has no more to offer, so much that I'll cave and slowly grow into my introversion. So much that I'm speechless in the simplest situations, so I write to capture any pure thoughts that still ring, as solitary echoes in my head that repeat, and spill the same desires out onto a blank sheet, some futile attempt to purge all my shortcomings and worries.
7.
A Mask 04:10
Freedom is not what I desire, for I am lost without constraint. I am aiming for a greater understanding to flesh out my days. It appears without warning before fading into space, contained within an idea or a song or a place. It's really just a matter of taking in the scene, of appreciating elements in their purest being. Hiding behind a mask of troubles and of dreams, I never really felt the rain or the wind. It could be perfect, refreshing or warm, or bitter and cold, the onset of a storm. Still I collect enough to say that I've lived, that I never cheated the experience, that I never hid. It's a quiet afternoon where soft jazz music plays, everything feels renewed, I can't revisit the same tired situations I repeat, and I replay, and I can't examine outlines of what I've already traced. I feel old and I feel warm, I feel directionless and bored, I feel young and I feel cold, I feel adventurous and bold, for a moment I simply exist at this table where I sit, and I'm waiting for that open door to bring whatever walks through it.
8.
Myopia 03:31
Boxed in plots of land so carefully divided host these hollow homes in which we resided. Each passing day we'd try to catch the sunlight as it raced away from this town and to another place, some chose to leave and others had to stay. I've been down every street, driven through myriads of grey. Any color that remains quickly too will fade, but on the outskirts, I haven't a history or name the boundaries around me have always retiained- they allow the hope to leave, but won't let in the change. so when you planned out your escape, I couldn't help but to feel strange. I couldn't grasp the manner of the plans that were arranged when you waited on that night, but I never came, and you left here in the morning as I saw you drive away, as you transcended barriers I never overcame. Markers track the distance, watch the numbers slowly rise, as they further drive a wedge between our separating lives. I haven't covered in my life the ground you claim tonight. I'm only hear to watch events as they come to light, but with no confidence in my actions, my dreams are compromised. but there's a fate to be met, and there's discoveries to be made. There's buildings to scale, and there's maps to be read. There's a feeling that was lost, and a spirit to be found. You saw it glowing in the distance on the outskirts of town. Fulfillment would be yours, and fulfillment is yours now.
9.
I am truly an introvert, I hide all my true thoughts by others that push forward: pleasantries without substance and half-hearted words, they fill the right spaces which allow me to converse, cause I'm scared of the gaps that are filled fast by silence, an inherent loneliness I wish to stifle, any conversation to get my fix from slang that's deemed acceptable to fit. and I'm damaged like you're damaged, but when we meet we'll exchange expressions that suggest that we're glowing and beaming with happiness, because we'd both much rather see beauty, or at least believe it exists in another, cause if I can't find it in myself, it's just gotta be in you. so you're only a person that I think about to escape from the boredom I feel with myself, but I can't let you slip far too down in my thoughts, become a permanent pattern with needs I can't help, because we're probably not in love. We're probably just lonely and don't know what to do with ourselves, and I know that you would make much better company than anybody else. So we can dance a few evenings, yes, we can lie for a while, and when you're tired and you are bored I will let you take leave because attraction's omnipresent but that feeling, it is fleeting and you've got years to chase it through each new person that you meet, til you collapse in front of the last person that you meet, exhausted in defeat.
10.
Surrounded 07:53
The aging night left tired looks on our faces, so we followed lights that led us from the unknown, to evenings within these dimly lit and dead places, with the company we keep on their own search for home. We discussed all that we were waiting for with the thinning room, as people slowly slipped outside to meet their aspirations. We watched as our ideas collided before us and left us alone with an indescribable connection. How we'd create and arrange our own shapes, live within their creases, refract the light they catch. A scene so serene, the beauty, it spreads, and blankets surroundings that stretch without end. Your voice traces itself in circles which permeate the darkness, words that linger in the air and lose themselves within simplicity. Somewhere in these endless hours, a night that cannot pass, yet we cannot feel the darkness that slips through our dreams. we choose instead to follow the hope that runs faintly beside it, to breathe the air and realize that we're still alive, that we haven't yet forgotten the value of redemption if we can register this new morning with our tired eyes, where we can slide across the cleanest of slates, embrace the bright sky, bleeding red. a scene so serene, the beauty it spreads, and blankets surroundings that stretch without end.
11.
I'll conjure up my final spark of life in some last ditch attempt to send a flare out for help, but to those on the outside, it's just an innocent light, it shimmers with warmth, keeps their souls in good health. and they can wait out the darkness that remains until morning, laughing as they dance across the night, for they've at least another day to love and to grow before their color and vibrance fade out of sight, yet I'm left with a hollow container that once held a spirit that released itself and hangs as a reminder overhead, the fleeting nature of youth leaves no option but to forfeit, we've tried to revive it but it's already dead. and by dusk we'll be shadows cast by some legacy we're far too old now to clearly remember- though we associate the sounds, the smells and the seasons with such lighthearted behavior, such change and such passion though now we sit without a purpose, waiting and bereft of some vague opportunity or reason to take a step, we grow content lying comatose in a bed of unrecognized dreams, playing back memories of better things.
12.
We burned back the memories, the characters of our past, we discarded misconceptions into a pile of ash, and waved our hands through the smoke which then clouded our eyes, for no bitter end outweighs the joys of a fresh start. They say that these years are hard, but really, which ones aren't? We'll still gather at this table to ponder the absurd, to laugh it off and light a match and slowly kill ourselves. Death is numb to feeling, and we need relief some time as well, so I guess we're not alone in the fact that we all die alone and we all exact in failures for every instance that we've won, so what's there not to celebrate if we've all walked through this storm to arrive in safer company of faces just as worn -? We tossed back fears of leaving those who were once reliable, for we'd rather stumble awkward than walk a straight line forward to a new uncertainty we'd rather believe to be escapable, so we could drunkenly adapt to that which we are most comfortable- but clocks bleed and rooms, they thin, it always feels like something's ending. As we rise to say farewell, we're never sure of our return, for the courage to progress is bestowed on us at random, and a call to evolution will forever lock this door.
13.
We're children lining street corners holding cups forward, waiting to catch knowledge thrown like coins downward, where only the privileged and fierce competitors gather enough for a fortune. I've grown exhausted with the pull of the crowd as we rush to each window, just begging for help, we receive raw information then spit it back out and return with our cups just as empty. And tomorrow, we'll repeat the process again, we've no better ideas for how time should be spent. There's just one narrow pathway that leads to success, and we'll be damned if we're the ones left for dead. Soon we'll be influential men working to ends with no means, irresponsible expressions of the power that we yield, while God's on the top floor of some office building, pulling my strings for a paycheck where all of the knowledge I've had the pleasure to acquire is cut open and condensed til meaningless in dry and the passion that I hold for the interests I've absorbed, it's not enough to earn recognition. Feigned aspiration, I can't keep up. Rapid progression, I can't keep up. What is the life that I'm working towards worth? I should have learned by now.

about

An ultra-lo-fi, angsty, verbose singer-songwriter album recorded during my Freshman year of college. Originally released under the name Sad Wolverine.

credits

released December 6, 2011

Anthony Zito- vocals, guitar, bass, drums, percussion, keyboard, air organ
Jimmy D'Addario- bass

All lyrics by Anthony Zito
All music by Anthony Zito and Jimmy D'Addario

Recorded between November 2010 and November 2011 in a dorm room and basement apartment in East Lansing

The cover art depicts Aly Faye being Aly

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all rights reserved

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Holy Profane Detroit, Michigan

Lo-fi word spew and pretty noise experiments

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