Sunday, September 08, 2013

· Schadenfreude ·

Hullo, me hearties.

Schadenfreude” is released today, September 8, and is available at Through Waves’ Official Store. You may listen to the entire record in the embedded widget below, and explore the lyrics, as well as purchase downloads and the remaining copies of the limited edition boxset.

In spirit of closure that this very important work inspires, I shall take the opportunity to write an open letter here, in the safety of my tiny virtual journal, so I may never have to listen to it again. It is all over. Flowers are growing once more.

"A Letter in Spring Bark,

It’s been a year since the last Spring, when we sat at the shade of trees, in a place I dared not set foot again, ever since you left town. A whole year passed, since I discovered the depths of my own trenches, and just how much water lies here inside, down and further down. A year of tests, daily struggles and many lessons learned, a year to grow older than the oldest parts of me; four seasons to watch the buds grow, despite frail, and be cut at the stems before they could blossom, withering upon my lap.  A year to revisit the work of five, a work you changed fundamentally, that became something completely different because of you. This opus, at first a mere musing over the towering figure of a long lost almost-friend, now overflows with the experiences and trials you provided, and the hurting is redder then your could ever know. You don’t know anything anymore. You went on, and I was left at the threshold of an entirely new world, with fresh wounds and tears I shall allow no-one to ever see again.

Throughout this year, I had many doubts about the reality of it all, whether it was all a fey rambling, or whether there was some truth behind every moment I spent blinded by the glamour of such a light. I came to realize through all the murky waters that hinder vision from below, that there was, indeed, truth; but one-sided, alas. I could never have any doubts about my brutal honesty, which frequently made me look like a wretched fool. There is, now, not a single shred of a doubt anymore: you never loved me. Whatever it is that you call “love” is an incomplete version of what it truly means, and I am afraid you shall never grasp this fact. And it can have no bounds… It can have no end. There is no limit to it, and there’s where the sweetest irony lies. I never offered boundaries; you chose to see affection as a cage, and how could I ever cage wild things? When the water cannot run wide, it runs deep.

It tears at the seams quickly, and we saw it happen. What wasn’t seen, however, was the extent of the damage caused, so no responsibility was taken. And we learned how to hate, me and my tiny veins. I learned that I could harbour such hatred, and that it wouldn’t sink me or hurt me anymore than you would. When you came, I was living by the entrance of a Sanctuary, with already closed gates, sitting shyly by its grandeur, looking to all the paths I could thread from its doors. And you swept me off my feet, wrapped me around your fingers and I never saw what other roads I could have taken, nor the enchantments of my peace-home anymore. But how quickly the glamour fades. When the hood of my cloak was set aside, there was nothing worth seeing to your eyes. And it all was brought low faster than we built it up, and I was homeless again.

Now, a year later, I seem to be forgetting the shape of your lips, the shy little fingers, the painted brows, the hairs of your chest and the palm of hands, in which I scribbled words with my twig-fingers, that I know you shall never forget. What I still remember is the pain, which although steadily diminishing, still burns every now and then. What a difference a year makes. I learned how to smile again, and I am no longer waiting for the train. And I no longer think I am in position to be forgiven, because I am but a harmless little rabbit, incapable of hurting things with my teeth. But you, my dear cat and fox, you need blood to keep living. And you’ll keep taking it until there is nothing left, and your hunger will never cease. And that blood will never fill the emptiness that lies inside you, and you’ll never look at the trail of dead rabbits behind. Such is your nature, which I see, because I see through you at will. There is no veil that can shroud the foulness. Above all things, you know there is no exaggeration. No excess. This is the true consequence of such an irresponsible hunt. And I learned how to live from death. You, however, never died, and will keep on living the same life, until it stops, and nothing springs from out of the marrow.

What an irresponsibility, to take upon your hands something so new, so fragile and shy, and to pretend you never harmed it. But I no longer lament, for I am stronger. Through all the pain, the lies, the lack of guidance and waving sorrow I sailed. And I reached a place you will never be allowed to enter, or find. I am stronger. Even as a rabbit, I am stronger. And ghosts will hurt me no longer.

I, maiden-boy, born again in Spring, sever all the remaining ties that bind me to the likes of you. From my embellished scars, flowers grow, and in their beauty I shall live forever."