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Soundtrack for the Dead: Mayflies Falling Wounded Where Echoes Were Wailing Destruction

by Scot Jenerik

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1.
1. Thomas, motionless and far floating, reached immersed calm. Tiring fog lost real being. Elements into discouragement. Control thoughts seemed driven, scattered. Accessible silence destroyed the paralyzed whirlpools. Flakes violently became liquid sweetness. Fatigue gave pleasant pursued intoxication, dispersing discomfort which moved aimlessly. No experienced situation, all organism forced adrift. Struggle under, drown on restored possibility. Turned vibrations on infinitely precise imaginary hollow. He encountered himself. Penetrate. Easily touched fatigue, as conscious infinite. Direction was void discovered horizon. Escaping sight perceiving time. Contact watching, contemplation, breaking expression.
2.
2. Nevertheless he remained clearly limited. Thomas lying, although falling with sudden standing indecision, cast seeing darkness through forward vault. Very cramped insurmountable obstacle determined death. Vaulted body, sense refusal. Anxiety carved undoubtedly real difficulties. That Thomas was immersed through penetrated observation, was eventually perceived. Naturally hypnosis by circumstance. Accepting Things conquered outside, identical repulsive night of thought images inundated vision. Seeing proportions penetrate from mingled nothing, which entered death occupation. Something real? This other was painful. The extreme foreign itself. Disturbing quivering life. No man nor abyss occupied his character. Replacing inundated edifices and arteries, Thomas and corpse climbed alive. Flesh mortal body, kept certainty forcing beneath furiously ruined stones, corpses, senses, void.
3.
3. The usual point was demonstrating his preferred attitude. His noise, imperceptible. Sound became simple, unsatisfied, confront. Silent people invited him to silence. Very satisfying, like her abandoned place. Comfortable the present, obviously hostile of attitude, which observed Thomas. She came apart to stare in sharp answer. Tactical unfortunate action, tolerated against rekindling failure. Rebellion to their glance, empty wandering space, illuminated warm thickness. Almost impossible voice took his absorbed name. In the indifference, all dangerous and departed.
4.
4. Thomas pressing concentration in, was reading every devoured female power. Exercised half-closed glance, not toward perceived, fearful, moment of pleasure so intolerable from strangeness, but by other angels than his refusing a beginning. Intelligible anonymous relationships remain motionless. His abandoned disgust retained the carnage of angels. Time divided empty painful rotting solitude. Even occupying intimately naïve blind noise, this inaccessible something sensed solitude and replaced obscure modulation. Absent, standing invisible, nothing might contact him. Steps toward barricaded minutes felt infinite. Infinitely reducible space remained separated in time. Effort moving, seemed unspeakably endured agony. Writhing sluggishly from venom dust, he was bitten, powerful beast desire. Intimacy digging night through horrible splendor, struggle grinding beast, madman, angel. The innocence slipping of emptied depths, haunted nightmare ever after. Opaque sleep, awake.
5.
5. Thomas silently blind after he, the sacred idol, addressed night. “What communication spirit comforter? Purrs disappeared with the falling truth. I once cast secrets, divided lies, dull-eyed without thoughts touching horror. My insipid prophecy permits splitting even supernatural shadows. Through distinguished fear, blessed sound heard through another darkness, rises the manifestly growing uneasiness. It’s impression unbearable, my experience dead, annihilated. Perceiving the cold howl, I see, hear, beyond Thomas.” Ditches leaving soil by resistance, became immovable shape by grave stone, a gravedigger, grave, corpse, himself. Body in all annihilation was himself ambiguity. Subterranean dreams occupied unique promise. Just hanging the rope bound existence to his body. Coldness of visible sense sufficed. Misunderstanding reality deprived of extinguished existence, he seized vertigo, falling. Night responded and surrounded the earth. All infinity bound nonexistent emanations in transformed smells. Buried material smothered him, the spectral possibility of impenetrable barriers at death, looked on indifferent. Beyond shadows, walking the precious life.
6.
6. Ann recognized every inflexible forest. Sun enveloped profound condensing ultimate silence. Thought aflame, exhaling transparent dense hours. Inhuman she returned precisely Ann. Dead foliage deceiving solemn scene. Nevertheless to Thomas, from motionless body consumed, immediately placed on man a resemblance. A face, shapeless, mute, invisible eye. Blending souls received empty, passed down visible phosphorescent blast, silence, space veiled nothing. Dissolved debris of resemblance, brutally without resemblance. Identical complete spider corpses, deserted of black ferocious body, delicate now. Brooding invisible space approached. Perseverance which resounded the secreting odors, like within woods, this black illusion. Borrowed alien beating heart, hideous little features. Sad unknown youthfulness herself.
7.
7. Anne dreamed he took abandoned mouth completely in her. Her futile realization that to act, might intimately reveal the buried contours, caressing with fixed desperate movements, humors the power within. Grafted she said “Properly interrogated existence, yes shocking presumptuous. Rashness about knowing itself, expression beneath God. But answer sure, assuming answer posed might change. Crude the blindfolded consequences….. madness?” The arbitrary question being deposited, already seized Anne. Contact unrelenting was telling silence. Yet he appeared, surrounded her, unexpected. “To what quiet shadows melted darkness? Tattered language worrying, explaining relations dead” Perceived difference was exchanged. Profoundly sophisticated appearance recalled ease, hypocrisy, miserably brilliant efforts. That Thomas just existed, clearly deceived the cause of aberration. Even time undertook emptied perspective. Inflexible irresistible catastrophe, devoting hope as destroyed.
8.
8. Becoming reality herself with motives of discovered anonymous history, no one’s intention, she contrasted profanation to resounded dream. Alone, absent chance to remove away Thomas. He radiant memories cry “breathing forever silence”. Eyes again desired her secret quality. Idea determined extraordinary distance, something shameless and tempting. But could betraying, admitting, admitting anything, say “perceive truth?” Enigma revealed pathways to illusion despite her mistake. This mistake relating to dangerous events analogous to detested childhood. Image of uneasiness rose in future thought. Illusory anguish? Was she exposing truth? Anxiety brought even arbitrary impenetrable shadows, acquiring precision of devils. She said “Around you are speaking vibrated words, pronounced inflections, sounds, language. Infantile meaningless nothing. Expression, indefinitely babbling rejected seriousness.” Trough seriousness suddenly consciousness opened it’s puerile face. Expressions, delicate features of what was Thomas. Her next moment brought emerging, hideous, vain, infinite life. “To abolish what? For whose silence? Death precipitated, retained perspective, imperceptibly realizing him. Exhaustion and tears this narrative of stifling abandonment.” Gently steps crossing from absorbed tempest into the valley of age, down into rising stars and eternity. Time reflected without soul, metamorphoses passed debate with espousing sigh. Unconcerned, his presence immobilized, future desolate prophetic argument, all antagonist within penetrated existence. Desolate abandon sea, cities mummified, extraordinary nothingness, dreamless sleep. Death exploration naively in absolute illusion. The penetrated dams now equivalent to thought. Miserable interior solitude this thought into abyss. Confused, awake, knowing her nakedness beyond transparency. Ann let rise this terrified silence. Any unheard sounds among hell? Critical in represented absence, this void abolishes conscious madness. Suppressed moment of living images bestow a radiated center which was the body, she, vomiting excrement. Shattering furious passion, love, there existed mockery.
9.
10.
10. They had entered unconsciousness in dead instant thoughts, listening to defeated eyes. Calm dusk woven along acquired nothing, everything was imaginary perfect silence. Anne’s narcotic shadows hypnotize with that moment. Artifice and opaque beauty, all that contradictory substance. Monsters without eyelids join the bitter soul, her world blended things. Delicious intoxication of icy joy. Day one of balanced pendulum. Alone. “Shooting earth could explode” this a voice told her. Still everyone recognized fate. Motionless hours remained running. Feeling serious and of facile courage while climbing overboard, her silence gave forth. Already the beautiful thunder smothered her cries. Around desolate inhuman tenderness, her only pleasure became uninhabitable. Only deprived evidence, to devastated, to insurmountable, separated with attached doubt. Henceforth ashen deprived affection made beautiful in childhood, disappeared. Imagine crying mother and quiet confidences shared between mother and daughters face. Eyes were innocent hateful love. Orphaned death insidiously proposed complicity by the ugliest deceptions. Evading disgust by saying “excuse any insensitive plot before time discretion. She’s…she…died! What changed? What? Throwing me one greeting glance of sympathy, with restraint. Is crudeness only her desire? See, no feelings. Whoever expressed pinched affection? She and her gentlest manner. This cruel ideal is becoming nothing itself. Ann feeling primordial soul as dark responding consciousness, made nothingness become profound. Oblivious anticipation of non-existent regret, with chance of alienated time, gave Ann feeling of changed being by annihilation. Egoism never had reduced her of perfection. Truly even existence permitted excellent moments: City constructions and city shadows; mayflies falling wounded where echoes were wailing destruction; monsters taming silence these entities of terror made obscure. What revelation, destroyed amidst space where creation sounded. Where life given forces consecrated the void. Existence transformation. Absurdity stimulated fusion. Vain failures expected success, but perceived laws were perceived transformed. No laws perceiving dying understood death. Annihilation received dying gestures from creation. Equivocal reason thrust abandon away. Forgotten in distraction of time. Falling lassitude offered her that death farewell. She breathed as moment rituals, admitting insignificant importance, look empty with last memory. Fading away this insignificant being knew, life was seeking sleep.
11.
11. Thomas afflicted present moment, thought alone saying words “Truth chained death without true cowardess upon closed life. Consolation and courage of changed point, having my unique gestures appears from annihilation. Death of Ann served to precisely show existence. Proof dissolved senses. Tomb obliterated ourselves. Suffocating casket barriers are manifest like, lifted destruction. Surely dying body was dawn form of silence. Composed instant constructing reality. Faded world of thoughtless surrounded agony. Consciousness perceived manifest condition, perfidiously eternal. Moribund is alien to all who deprive despair from life. The impression of Socrates, being inflicted upon instant death, accepting the ceased existence of passions separating, might make the paradox of consciousness distinguished. Every sufficient explanation was touched by death. This state of the blood reflected fate eternal. Which body contradiction represented absurd estrangement? Human accomplished renders impossible, absence without reason. Without voice outside of every individual exchange. Time had seen reconstituted insect. My corpse of humanity. Ugly renouncing species, jackal within these men. Becoming my ideal of reality, existence shrunk to nothingness. Only death anticipated hurled voice, saying “who resembled faceless altered horror”? Cold their changing relations shutter, experiencing solitude for only one moment. Mortuary has respectable authentic grief. Familiar nature. I imagine living knowledge gradually pondering appeasement. Triumphantly emptied, contradictions on the dying reality contemplated existence, developed murmur. The eye without the affirming passion always seemed half phantom. Ventriloquist cried “SILENCE”. Composed, I threw fire before perpetual night of illusion. Myself, I am indeed this negation. Having visual refusal, organs submerged, face nonexistent, I reinforced myself as protoplasm. I glimpse nothing marvelous myself. No absurd unnamable person, no name conceived, metamorphosis coupled enigma with inexperience. Inaccessible proximity. I conceived Thomas. Oh imputing death, what unexceptional condition established union? Unrecognizable, indissoluble relationships of turning you consciousness, you unconsciousness. Enigma which I incessantly signified, destroyed opposites. I, myself hold madness before my delicious vision. Sun, which projected terrible flame, touched that consumed body. Flame annihilated from all brilliance and intensity. I am as Sun without reference. My existence itself absence and hens forth, mysterious. Existence performed in concrete, illuminant from heat. Before us, she saw my easily melted absence. Her ungraspable searching discomfort, seized all horror about me, watching for fright. Was pity completely absent? Unimaginable, insane? Absurd absurdity, absurd experience, absurd because of me? Absurd her, she was enigma, undecipherable. Never had discomfort forced me this insatiably. Gathering reflection she obliterated doubts, in my experience. Sufficient melancholy toward one devotion, separate united emotions. Revulsion in passions exhausts vaguely calm feeling. Well, which indiscernible revulsion experiences the sea? Everywhere, sensations of great passions, from Ann, from Thomas, from horizon too… Am I myself again? Silence. Transparency consumes my simple agony. No void, no moment of my metamorphosis reveals that forces enjoyment. Consciousness is the phantom behind absurdity, something I discover is not suppressed. Time destroyed me, my shape, the perception of composed man. That night itself attributed no feeling, is itself obscure. Repetition which directed composed undertaking, creates another. Mingled dead call for making me unjustifiable. Perceive, I commit real negligent inaccessibility. My dead necessity annihilates identical being. I exist, requires more intimacy. Any suppressed friendship distinguishes myself. For which perspective restores images? Devoid non-being? Negation in non-existent color? Product of inverted vision? Ringing prism restores within, without the spectator. Examines the offer desires is excluded, yet accepts. Of everything united only irrational reference represents this progress. Nevertheless the steps toward madness gravitate outside me. You, offering perfect absence, I consciousness, define yourself to ecstasy. Night into meditation as light from creation of conscious time admits refusal. No ambiguity. I exist, I drawn now eternal into nothingness.
12.
12. Spring spread dazzling genera. Represented dragonflies, without years, were drawing time. Prophesy impregnated in chrysalis, receiving wings. Mayflies forever spread transparent youth. Rosebush, enveloped by overflowing birds, spread brilliance. Centuries viewed the universe through metamorphosis of radiant sound. Harmonious the tranquil valleys. Perfumed spring splashed color, designated music. Wings went suddenly fourth, abandoned pinnacle bloomed from a magnificent song. Silence. Absence of monologue. Transparent heart. Enormous primordial stone of accumulated rising cadaverous contemplation stretched the earth. Ashes beneath creation. Mountains, random invisible orbits. Vain constellations. Solemn form. Wished memory. Melting cold in bodies, representing corpses. Monstrous intrigues feebly lost their speech. Empty accursed prisoners climbed desperately, but the stronger wisdom engulfed dreamed transversing. Solitude terrified with profound inertia. From mouths mist seemed deepest, like perceived desires. Infinite and voluptuously crude, desperately begun.

about

Limited edition of 5 handcrafted wooden boxes, with glass, dirt, book and CD.

Mayflies was a project that seemed doomed to never be finished. Life, other projects and the lost (deleted) recording of Chapter 9, relegated Mayflies into the abyss. The original DAT vocal recording could not be found. Attempts at reconstructing Chapter 9 were not of quality. After moving from San Francisco to Portland, an old box of DATs materialized and the long lost source recording emerged. Reconstruction complete, the project now moves toward the light. Or in this case the dark.

This is one of the more psychedelic works I’ve done. As it is a 35 minute story. I recommend listening on headphones while laying in the dark.

Thank you Tika

credits

released May 23, 2014

Scot Jenerik: Narration, Sound
Larnie Fox: Thomas
Bronwyn Ximm: Ann

Frank Grau: Backing Vocal
Aleph Omega: Backing Vocal
Flora Powell: Backing Vocal
Kurt Weitzmann: Backing Vocal

Text: 1995 © Scot Jenerik
Vocal Recordings: 1996 at Carvaka
Sound Recording: 2007 at Mobilization
Mastered: 2014 by Thomas Dimuzio at Gench Music
Release: 05/23/2014 © Scot Jenerik

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Scot Jenerik Portland, Oregon

Scot Jenerik is a composer and conceptual artist. Projects include; AUME, F-Space, and Soundtrack for the Dead. He has performed, lectured and distributed audio/video works extensively in the United States, Europe and Japan. He is co-owner of Mobilization Records, has an MFA from the San Francisco Art Institute, founded 23five Incorporated and co-hosted the No Other Radio Network on KPFA. ... more

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