Another Digital Diary

The demons inside me

Keep telling me that I have not changed

That I am the same person that I was before

They yell that redemption isn't in my nature

allergies & asthma are

just two ways they tax

the air we breathe

the dollar never far

from buying facts

can you believe?

i try to play a game

i just close my eyes

but the ads are like a sea

it all remains the same

it comes as no surprise

She reads labels like they're confessions turning everything over in her hands as if truth might be hiding in small print

There's a quiet discipline to her not loud, not preachy just a steady refusal to take more than she needs

She eats color greens that look alive fruit that stains her fingertips meals that feel less like consumption and more like a conversation with something still breathing in its own way

People joke about it they always do but she doesn't argue just smiles like she's already decided what matters

There's a softness in her that isn't weakness more like restraint like she knows exactly how much harm the world runs on and chooses, every day, to step slightly outside of it

I watched her once move a spider out of the sink instead of killing it like even the smallest life deserved a second chance

It's strange in a world that takes without asking she moves like a question instead of an answer

The basement smells like wet cement and old electricity like something tried to become a home here and gave up halfway through We drag our equipment through the narrow stairwell anyway knowing it will scrape, knowing we won't apologize for it

Someone taped over the broken light with a flyer from last month's show the ink already fading like it regrets being printed Names of bands no one remembers anymore layered over each other until they stop meaning anything at all

We set up in a circle that isn't really a circle more like an agreement that we willface the noise together instead of pretending it comes from anywhere else

When the first note hits, it isn't music yet It's an interruption A refusal A hard break in whatever quiet the world was trying to sell us

The amps crackle like they're alive and unhappy about it Every sound feels too close, too personal like it knows things about us we didn't agree to share

Someone is already screaming before the song starts not words exactly, just pressure released in a direction It makes the air feel thinner like we've been given less room to exist in

We didn't ask for clarity We don't build towards resoluion We keep moving forward anyway because stopping would mean hearing ourselves think

The drums don't follow structure, they fight it each hit like a reminder that time is not something we belong to Guitars tear through the mix in jagged pieces like they're trying to escape their own strings

There's sweat on the walls now, or maybe condensation or maybe just the room reacting to the noise like a living thing It's hard to tell where we end and it begins

We used to talk about the meaning between sets Now we just stand there breathing hard pretending our lungs aren't filled with the same unresolved static we just poured into the floor

Someone drops a cable and doesn't pick it up right away No one stops No one can afford to interrupt the momentum not even for something that matters

The lyrics don't tell stories anymore They don't explain They just arrive in fragments half confessions, half accident like they were never meant to survive the throat they came from

And still we push louder as if volume could replace certainty as if distortion could make truth easier to hold

There's a moment, small, almost invisible where everything locks together by mistake Not harmony Not peace Just shared impact A collective weight pressing down on the same fragile point in time

Then it breaks again

It always breaks again