Adam @slowsand - Tumblr Blog

doom

springs Eternal

Greatness

skips two generations

“there are four heroes”

mf doom, driver, ome, armand hammer

a phantom appears

snapping its knuckles and neck & scratching its ears

challenger adam bates

reenters the arena

love to love.

with a little help from my friends, we made a music video with which i am very proud.

take a watch of it, please!

creativity: slumps; grumps; and dumps.

I’m so often beholden to my mood which either swings wildly from moment to moment, or varies imperceptibly from one grayed-out microexpression to another. It’s the nature of being majorly depressed, or bipolar, or perhaps a rueful slew of mental disorders I embody day-to-day & nightly. When it rains, it pours, or, as I’ve crassly put it before, it shitstorms. So when I encounter people who are well-adjusted, balanced in every sense and not aching spiritually / financially / intellectually, I’m perplexed and run out of words fast. But when I meet someone who’s trying very hard to be emotionally intelligent, self-aware and striving for non-toxic femininity and / or masculinity, I’m charmed and gush like a pink fountain.

It’s been very hard, this past year, even up until now. The holidays are always hard, harder when you can’t blab your troubles away to loving family without spreading miasma particulates that could choke anyone. Even with political victories belonging to the team I subscribe to (go, go, the color blue!) and thereby the chance that COVID will end: I & my community will be vaccinated, plus our personal and national economies restored to some functionality even if $2,000 feels like a bandage on a near-mortal wound. When I had money in overabundance back in July, as is often the case, I froze. It fills me with a deep dread that, eventually this money that isn’t being used for food or rent will bite me in the ass so hard, I won’t be able to comfortably lie in the impoverished bed I’ve made. I put my money on me, creating albums that existed only on my hard drive. And I put money into my artist-friends’ accounts by getting their art or mixes or masters.

In the same month the mixes on my first album finished, Open Mike Eagle shared Anime, Trauma and Divorce; its essential track “everything ends last year” states ‘it’s October and I’m tired”, and I felt that, & I feel that. What unique platitudes can be fresh about the death of relationships? I’m walking in the footsteps of giants, peering over my peers’ shoulders and certainly not creating the art artists envy, but I’m making loud statements about the erosion of a sweet & perfect thing and all its glaring, despairing imperfections for the miserable company that loves me. I don’t need it to do anything more than exist, my music, like this weblog.

Life is going well for me finally, professionally, romantically and otherwise. It’s just been a five-yearlong winter and I’m ready to smell the flowers. I’m making a couple music videos with talented friends of mine, and placing finishing touches on the second of the double album, the idea behind it plucked directly from Sufjan Stevens' "Illinois (Sufjan Stevens Invites You To: Come On Feel the ILLINOISE)" and "The Avalanche", especially the track ‘Chicago (Multiple Personality Disorder Version)’, as well as radiohead's "Kid A" and "Amnesiac", especially the title track ‘Morning Bell / Amnesiac’ which frames an alternative version of a song off “Kid A” in a memory-loss disease. It’s going to be more of the same, and its own distinct shadow. You’ll love it. Next time I’ll make something completely different, maybe a bunch of chillwave instrumentals, or get a band together. Who knows? God knows.

In a Scott Pilgrim backpage-style farewell, here’s all the albums that inspired me before, during and after making the albums: A Crow Looked at Me by Mount Eerie forever & ever by SALES Big Red Machine by Big Red Machine What Happens When I Try to Relax by Open Mike Eagle Electricity is on our Side by BUSDRIVER budding ornithologists are weary of tired analogies by milo Nostrum Grocers by Nostrum Grocers Ocarina of Time by Super Guitar Brothers Minidiscs [HACKED] by radiohead A Moon Shaped Pool by radiohead softness by Julie Arsenault Glittering Lights by The Hopeful Lonely Lamp Lit Prose by Dirty Projectors Dirty Projectors by Dirty Projectors

agnosticism ii by (the)imperfectionist

creativity: slumps; grumps; and dumps.

I’m so often beholden to my mood which either swings wildly from moment to moment, or varies imperceptibly from one grayed-out microexpression to another. It’s the nature of being majorly depressed, or bipolar, or perhaps a rueful slew of mental disorders I embody day-to-day & nightly. When it rains, it pours, or, as I’ve crassly put it before, it shitstorms. So when I encounter people who are well-adjusted, balanced in every sense and not aching spiritually / financially / intellectually, I’m perplexed and run out of words fast. But when I meet someone who’s trying very hard to be emotionally intelligent, self-aware and striving for non-toxic femininity and / or masculinity, I’m charmed and gush like a pink fountain.

It’s been very hard, this past year, even up until now. The holidays are always hard, harder when you can’t blab your troubles away to loving family without spreading miasma particulates that could choke anyone. Even with political victories belonging to the team I subscribe to (go, go, the color blue!) and thereby the chance that COVID will end: I & my community will be vaccinated, plus our personal and national economies restored to some functionality even if $2,000 feels like a bandage on a near-mortal wound. When I had money in overabundance back in July, as is often the case, I froze. It fills me with a deep dread that, eventually this money that isn’t being used for food or rent will bite me in the ass so hard, I won’t be able to comfortably lie in the impoverished bed I’ve made. I put my money on me, creating albums that existed only on my hard drive. And I put money into my artist-friends’ accounts by getting their art or mixes or masters.

In the same month the mixes on my first album finished, Open Mike Eagle shared Anime, Trauma and Divorce; its essential track “everything ends last year” states ‘it’s October and I’m tired”, and I felt that, & I feel that. What unique platitudes can be fresh about the death of relationships? I’m walking in the footsteps of giants, peering over my peers’ shoulders and certainly not creating the art artists envy, but I’m making loud statements about the erosion of a sweet & perfect thing and all its glaring, despairing imperfections for the miserable company that loves me. I don’t need it to do anything more than exist, my music, like this weblog.

Life is going well for me finally, professionally, romantically and otherwise. It’s just been a five-yearlong winter and I’m ready to smell the flowers. I’m making a couple music videos with talented friends of mine, and placing finishing touches on the second of the double album, the idea behind it plucked directly from Sufjan Stevens' "Illinois (Sufjan Stevens Invites You To: Come On Feel the ILLINOISE)" and "The Avalanche", especially the track ‘Chicago (Multiple Personality Disorder Version)’, as well as radiohead's "Kid A" and "Amnesiac", especially the title track ‘Morning Bell / Amnesiac’ which frames an alternative version of a song off “Kid A” in a memory-loss disease. It’s going to be more of the same, and its own distinct shadow. You’ll love it. Next time I’ll make something completely different, maybe a bunch of chillwave instrumentals, or get a band together. Who knows? God knows.

In a Scott Pilgrim backpage-style farewell, here’s all the albums that inspired me before, during and after making the albums: A Crow Looked at Me by Mount Eerie forever & ever by SALES Big Red Machine by Big Red Machine What Happens When I Try to Relax by Open Mike Eagle Electricity is on our Side by BUSDRIVER budding ornithologists are weary of tired analogies by milo Nostrum Grocers by Nostrum Grocers Ocarina of Time by Super Guitar Brothers Minidiscs [HACKED] by radiohead A Moon Shaped Pool by radiohead softness by Julie Arsenault Glittering Lights by The Hopeful Lonely Lamp Lit Prose by Dirty Projectors Dirty Projectors by Dirty Projectors

agnosticism ii by (the)imperfectionist

to natalie:

I want you to be happy. I feel like we’re stuck in loops we don’t want to be in, where we’re fighting each other but staying together because we’re comfortable. I want you & I to be happy and uncomfortable rather than unhappy and comfortable; I hope you feel the same way. You deserve a boyfriend deserving of you. To that end, I feel inadequate. I feel as though you want someone whose flaws aren’t mine, and is strong in the way you are strong, someone who can match you creatively, someone who inspires you, someone as funny and silly as you, someone with a good memory who doesn’t forget things important to you, someone who doesn’t force his sexuality onto you, someone whose history isn’t marked with lingering feelings toward women, whose attention doesn’t waver toward friends you can’t call your own, whose family lives nearer yours so you can get close to his without being far from your own, who doesn’t lie and feel ashamed and hides his hurtful or hurt feelings, whose esthetic is top-shelf, whose hobbies and career you can support, who can take a niece beatdown, who doesn't get stuck feeling stuck in a relationship he wants to change.

How I disappoint you over and over may just be who I am right now. And it’s okay for you to reject that. These recurring rejections, my failed seductions, my finances, my romantic shortcomings, my inability to comfort you or to love your family, all of it; it all makes me feel like a bad boyfriend. I want better for you, and I want better for myself than to be reduced to a bad boyfriend. I don’t want hard feelings between us. I would like to talk, to leave no stone unturned and to reconcile every indiscretion to your satisfaction. That’s why I wanted to deliver this in person. I’ll miss you as my girlfriend with my whole heart, brain, body and spirit. You were, are and forever will be my first, truly. I will always love you. I only want good things for you, though this may not feel like one. But I believe this is a good thing, ultimately, this freedom for both of us, to elect to do what we want and not be bound by a sometimes joyful, sometimes joyless obligation to each other. I love you Natalie.

Yours,

Adam

post-script:

and with that letter, i hurt myself as violently as i hurt the person i Loved the most, the most i’ve ever hurt anyone. i recurring dreamt of it; i wrestled with the decision, the way it was decided, the way that decision was delivered, received, and how selfish i was in that moment and for many, many moments, that i failed. i failed myself, her, and everyone i had long kept at arm’s length into whose chests i then retreated. then i committed those deafening failures to unpolished recordings, and sent them to the internet which is meant to be permanent — Forever.

sorry if this reaches You unflatteringly. sorry i wailed and flailed for months after, and before. enjoy. clap. dance. sing. Love hard, Love soft — just Love. only Peace & Love to you all.

feeble-

bodied&minded

one needs

sobriety

evil

light

where do my ambitions go, when they left me cold

from where do they return, with my birthright riding in righteous fire from which to renew?

upside-down

kingdom

what do you want, to be?

while you’re all grown up?

God’s

country

poolsofchrome

Did you hear the call? The forbidden words, the thoughts of those whose minds were made—not birthed

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