Dying is something I look forward with more excitement every day/year/hour. Thinking about dying has become an eccentric hobby. I think about it at least once every hour; half the time a suicidal thought hosting one of those episodes.
It's been nearly two decades since I've considered performing the deed. The world is full of too many assholes needing to be outshined and dethroned by my spectacular bastard ways; I'd be committing a disservice to the universe by decomposing the sweet six feet under (Vive Six Feet Under!) despite the delight of being rid of God's crotch rot that is humankind.
When I think of dying these days, I think about the the techniques, the amounts of pain to be endured; even about my chances of survival that will hopefully manifest itself merely as long term suffering before imminent death.
Music doesn't play a role in these morbid visions (Vive Sepultura!!), but certain albums and songs make themselves known at the most essential moments in your life. One of those albums happened to be Staind's major label debut Dysfunction.
The grim overtone of the album immediately sparked a sonic rapport with me despite my mediocre reception to the music, but it was Aaron Lewis' honest, downtrodden lyrics that gripped me coldly, kicked me in the face, and had me knitting yarn nooses like they were holiday stockings.
Four songs especially:
Just Go - My relationships with my parents has never been what society would accept as "normal;" yet, I can't help but consider generations of joyful meatbags sitting together and consuming mounds of food without a single liquor bottle cracked over someone's skull "normal." Still, this song extends beyond them and into my immediate family and even some of my so-called friends. I've been betrayed and abandoned by both family and friends before; it will happen again. People come and go. At least now my primary concern will be to ensure that all of my borrowed belongings have been retrieved.
The death nail I imagine while hearing this song now is using an industrial clamp to steady a hunting knife so I may lunge at it, allowing it to stab me in the center of my neck. The blade needs to be long enough for the blade's tip to perforate straight through the nape of my neck.
Home - The album was released during the time I was involved in the greatest relationship I'd ever experienced. To this day, I know that if I only have one friend in the world, whether it's the woman I want to be with forever, or the dog dumb enough to stay by my side, I'll be just fine. And, eventually, I came back home and she was gone.
No twisted thoughts on this one. It just makes me miss being in love. It's difficulat and nearly trivial being a romantic with no one to romance; so, I focus on the macabre. It's humorous as Hades.
A Flat - When you do something amazing and no one is around to witness it, sometimes it's frustrating. I knew I was destined to do something amazing at a young age, but I never had any support because what I watned for my future wasn't what anybody else wanted for my future. According to the people I was supposed to trust and seek advice from, being twelve years old and writing your first novel is parallel to sitting in your room all day, being a lazy shit, and not doing a God damn thing. In regards to the friends that supposedly understand you, practicing an instrument three hours a day is nowhere near as important as getting loaded and telling dick jokes.
This song concocts an image of pasting glass shards on to strips of tape and wrapping those strips around my head so I may proceed to bash my skull against every hard surface in the room.
Me - With this tune, let me just say my fantasy is to carve a thin hole through a door to place a lengthy knife blade between; reinforce the knive's stability and strength with industrial adhesive, and slam that door as hard as possible, jamming that blade through my skull.
Too bad the best song of the entire album is the hidden track. And, too bad Staind went on to, you know, suck.
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