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Victor Lu *​(​Deluxe)

by Histories

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1.
This was never my strong suit, all the months I’ve set away. Doors revolving bowls and bottles blurred the deadline comfortably. The most work I’ve put forth’s to put off responsibility. Hardly conscious, owl hours finding downtime in a dream. Too blind to see who’s behind makes for assumptions and shadows to take the lead. I concede my fear, but this creeping contempt is only what I'll permit to appear. Gonna keep playing some tunes ’til we get a little bit farther. To grovel for your blessing seems a hell of an offer. Don’t bother; I’m hurt, but we’re too far to stop here. Gotta keep paying our dues even if it only gets harder. Smash up the house…and all the windows in it. Burn down the house…that flooded our equipment. Trash the fucking house…until we find the car keys in it. We'll find home without. I am sure of the potential if I could stop making excuses from my phone to the time. Not to waver with the weather, finding shelter outside Bleach the mold that’s on the ceiling; clear the cough syrup isle. In-between self-assurance and an open mind, make efforts not to interrupt but know how to still be alright; it’s gonna happen.... but now the generous and loyal, who I am grateful have cared, would let our lives become leverage while we've next to nothing to share. Not to take them for granted, just to save this marriage... So I fix to this feeling as my only sense of pride. New perspective, coins collected; this is ours, not yours or mine. Born the bride of the music. May the music never die. Sayonara. Toast tomorrow. ’Til then we can’t just wait for it. Never said that we could do it alone, but still, we can’t just…wait for it. Light our asses up and take to the road. Home’s wherever you'd offer.
2.
Hung up my cleats near boxing gloves. Life off my feet could never be enough. My shins exposed like table legs, not unreceptive, just acting tough. I’ve heard my name and all it entails, but try to hold it up to modern cultured scales; it’s clear that roles reverse, and, now, proof’s my burden as a nail file prepping a tyrannic world. The notion of love is what kept you in my head. The notion of home is what kept us in the same bed. This doesn’t feel like home. How frivolous to compete for upper hands. You’re not empowered to govern circumstance, but these even planes that self-sustain just seem so un-attainable. Conditioning, hoping to earn the will to wait... Setting my own example- Cycling my steps ample times. Repeat. Repeat insanity. Setting your own example- Handling regret to know the pen just needed scribbling and’s only rendered useless in the moment that you concede. Separate all the pigeons from the doves, digging holes, throwing anything but rice. Climb, Zacchaeus, far from the earth. Observe, not to be stuffed inside. We're false exocentrics, just building a habit; our hopes only hold to the way we would have it. I forfeit all control. I know ownership's a joke, but still (reciprocal) servanthood, I yearn. No one to hold me to my will. Nothing to hold me to my will. If you can ask me to, I will; No one to hold me to my will.
3.
Burnt furnace, so old. The thermostat’s broken, and my hot-nature’s come a custom to the cold. But the snow fell for weeks as I struggled to sleep, clutching clothes and towels in my backseat. Spent tread on my tires; earned lights on the dash- only half a reason to decline when you’d ask. So I bury my gut, repeat ‘live in the moment,’ but that moment’s since lost, and I’ve known it…for some time…but so have you. It’s not unsaid. You made me sweat…more than I already do. Don’t be mislead if I fall into your bed. It’s plenty comfy; I’m just worried it’s not all true. Derived my hopes from a point of view like we're children in a lunchroom. Though I’m not allowed over there, no one could see me in that smothering mask, just saw reflections of you. I introduce myself as Tucker, though you just heard my name. Dictations, somehow, easier in the context of a game. I suppose if I’m not myself, I don’t have any faults to disclaim. You found me fishing for a partner for the three-legged race who simply falls into step without a word exchanged - illogical, I know...and at a snail’s pace. But I become transparent once I take off the mask. Heard you were making fun cause I’m a ‘fraidy cat. I’m Erik Destler underneath. Could hardly force myself to speak. It’s not unsaid. You make me sweat…more than I already do. Don’t be mislead if I fall out of your bed. It’s plenty comfy; I’m just worried the frame’s come loose. Molasses thick... I’ve still yet to mask the scent. My underarms' stiff clench... Just leave your coat on; you’re vulnerable and far too sensitive. There’s no mystery - rusty and a lot of blunt. It’s nice to think that fate’s significant in why I still come over, but you always make it seem so urgent. I’m sure you miss the company, but so do I. Put your head up next to my collar bone. Can you feel my pulse break? Can you feel the guilt swimming as we start to? It’s like I said, still drenched in sweat; I struggle to keep all alone. And as mean as it sounds that I don’t want you around, through my silence I am trying to help us both.
4.
Cicada 03:19
You're on the wrong side of loyalty, tumblin' weed. I misplaced all my defense with your consistency. Maybe your word exists, but others supersede. You're on the wrong side of loyalty, weathering chalk. Recall my childhood; can't find your name at all. You could be overturned without a second thought. All the hardships faced, the love that was claimed, the capacity too full to handle more pain- few to object if I decide to harbor such disdain, but I've seen it crease about a thousand times. Nevermind honor unclear- only welcome with half sincerity (time can take it out of you) Be the same every time that I see you, humorous and deteriorating, holding onto the skins of cicadas forever, just in case. Hear me out, I allude to the fine print. Common ground drifting ever-so distant, hoping not to be perceived any different. Indebted lives ingrained Atlantic tie-off Virtuous steps on the stones I laid down; no time to skip. Background noise Couldn't hear what was said fabricating memories with Lee's Summit kids' all-encompassing cliques. Celebrate on May 31st only to communicate progressively worse, just moments before we begin to disperse. I'm on the wrong side of loyalty and losing my mind; maybe just losing touch with every division sign. It's never too late to extend salutations while we're all still alive. If you could be the same... Assurance is lost with variant thoughts. We're subject to change, but don't think that I ever forgot. It's somewhere in the carport attic I keep all my stuff in back on Edmondson. Be the same. I will be the same. I can be the same when I see you. Thoughts exchanged, telepathic brains I'll always be the same when geography allows.
5.
Language ignites suspicion. Could I have grown inept while my eyes insist to meet with those they haven’t yet? Hopeless infatuation toward the present tense, banking on dismissal....Profane myself underneath my breath. Gaining more distance, unapproachable. Hiding close behind what my scalp can grow. Force me to resign 'til I'm feeling whole. Crediting our instinct, as if we’ve mastered because there’s no immediate result. Acting in control. Until I’m ash and Earth, before my words deem worthless, I’ll honor effort beautiful. Cross to pollenate expanding rubber trees, resilient apple-pine. I am, I am in the right place, but it's the wrong damn time. Clearing leeway is essential. Compelling testimonies show my present state- skeptic, resisting truthful open-mindedness. Loosen up enough to sing the past Christmas. Break down in Louisiana; I could not possibly feel more blessed. Arthur, in my head, asks you not to shorten it. Stumbling block-obsessed - leisure turned to foolishness. Bound to boycott one - pitted by the youngest head. I know you’d love to see me but understand conviction to be obedient. In case of the event,... More angles still to be gentle. Opinionated irrelevant. Upright behavior undismissed. Take a position; highlight the difference. Full opposition - certainty. Honest admission of incomprehension, endless with counter contingency. Equal in blood. Equal in sense. One-dimensional elevation. Rooted in rock. Rooted in thorns. Sewn to the birds. Effects will live forever if we'd huddle close. Slow to suppose.
6.
Walking carefully, pass nothing by. Focus forward glancing to the side. For a lingering residual, find remembrance in peripherals until they nauseate my recycled state of anticipating more. Trading carelessly, now, get along. Records, all receipts disposable. I was sure I’d mapped the outcome. Wrote a speech for my acceptance, but I’ve got nothing quite like I’d imagined might be reward for signing up. Granting again assumptions. A single word’s probably all that you’ll ever need. Defend and stall to a fault. Pay no bother to the snakes hiding in the weeds Wounded arrogant. Overdressed. Barely fathom how to self-invest. Attempt reverting back to nature. My under-confident behavior extracting from my head each woven fabric thread like the maintenant ensued. Align the dirt in my favor; I am fairly certain that the sky can’t tell me where to go. Thickened up; it’s just fluctuation. The season meant to keep me braced up on the tips of my toes. Holding steady, testing theories, the only constant being conclusion. Getting ready, take forever, living dormant, try to knock on wood. Growing steadily more weary. Unprofessional constituents. Getting ready, taking forever, restless dormant, now I'm knocking wood Holding steady, smell the future it’s correlating this predicament. Getting ready, coming together, in none the ways yet that I hoped we would.
7.
Tb&J 04:03
Been ‘bout a month now, three(to seven) to the house Definitely moving, with or without. Misunderstanding’s littered with doubt. Ever-undecided, thinking aloud. Sarah, climb the stairs to my room and help me sleep. Pauline's gonna be safe with Dan, allegedly. Split, my leather shoes start to fuse into the street. Wind knocked out, I’m back at The Flea to a shoulder perma-lent, every ounce compassionate. Never could return the gift - cigarette and rumplemintz. Silent overconfidence. Object instead of be a friend, but I’m aware my ignorance. I could never understand this. I wish I had known how to talk to you. There’s never a good time; have to force to move. Wasted my last opportunity, zoning, not honing in. Still, hardly stagnant - strength in the coil. Probably wound up too tightly, tight seal closed Exceed retention. I overload as a sponge, not a vessel overflowed. Kick off from the cedar chest to better work. Stranded, my account dashed and red, could not afford the five o’clock you don’t answer Chet or ring return the day before the day of your birth. Still I’m sure you’d say don’t come, benefactor for a bum. Finally reunite your love while I pretend to get a job. I’m only guaranteed a month. Set to quit when winter’s done. Still I’m sure you’d say don’t come. Like I even had the money. Life won’t yield to emotional appeal. All gratitude forever a thought. Feathers claimed by the lateral wind. You live with what you said or did not. My homage comes so liable.
8.
Fake Title 03:34
Where should we start; we'll start with your pride, or the lack thereof, but I'll let you prove I'm right. Sure you're pure, pure vanity, easily seen by everyone but me. Think you're cleverly cloaked in your lies, but you can't see clearly with o's in your eyes. Tell everyone exactly what they want to hear. We all hear you loud and clear. It’s not cute anymore, stumbling around, claiming home is your head on the ground. Real fucking cool; you can get high. So can we; so can I (probably shouldn’t though) Finally conscious of your conscience. Oh, how bad it must be to be forced to face the fear that you’ve still not learned a thing. That your repetition therapy’s emotion alone - a sympathetic platform for obtaining control. God forbid you’ve any respect; leave the plasma in my arm and keep your horse to yourself. Entitlement forgiveness proves intentions are shit. How about living with your actions and their consequences? Cracked skin, eight months to dry out. My turn to talk, can't hardly open my mouth. Always overthinking (honestly just venting) I cleared the field by the house, I fed the boys in the cold, laid the tile in the kitchen, porch swing to sit and grow old, replace the sugar with salt, trip over truths in the hall. Sign a brick for the window. Can’t move ’til you say it’s safe to. Inhale unsettling dust while you take liberties with tact. Keeping tabs with my folks to seem considerate. Wish you’d shown that courtesy in Utah, left dynamics in place along with the ring I never asked you to take. Habit over progress. What's so hard about being honest? Lost it before you lost this. Best of luck anyway. Cut the defenses. You never meant it like you would lead it on. Incoherent, I'm doubting every word. Vain to attempt to anymore. It isn't much a surprise the feeble clasp couldn't hold. Nothing's eventually fine until we both let it go. Don't wake me up in the night contrasting popular posts. Question extent unknown.
9.
Hallucinogen, I hinge; I replace. Vivid details enhance, void of any aid. Ignore it. Come down. Euphoric, unsound. but still, at least in this moment, I’m inclined to notice the battered cactus never on its ledge. The sun won’t reach where the soil is fresh. Only wishing I were closer, inching further away. If only I had waited up and met you awake. Cite every poem ending incomplete, proof to myself I could commit to something. I overlook your envelope requesting I write then am carried away trying to nullify. Carcinogens carefully cloud ambiguity to entertain putting doubts against fantasies. Majority cowardice obscuring patience. Reading up; reading in, although your contact always tends to make me flinch. and still… Stop being foolish. Nothing to offer anyway. Unfolded laundry and a slew of prone mistakes. But I can't help but notice, at least in this moment.
10.
Porch Light 04:36
You burn off all the callouses just to blister then repeat. Can’t compose yourself when it comes to the heat that he speaks. I’ve shelled out a lot, shaking your goddamn spell off from drinking the clock to nine-ball, bet five, corner pocket. To thank you’s insufficient to the world your hand drew together for us through a camera lens, you saw me as what people would call lovely. I know my moon wouldn’t rise into your kingdom, but your paw print to my house still leaves me feeling like a ghost. I’m faint to help viewing past your shoulder. The sweet is overcome with bitter. I, most of the time, reduce to settling for smolder anyway. Upon the porch, we feel the same. Refrain to address 'til you can’t. Can’t blame withheld invitations Coping season. Votre force vous manque. Comes and goes, as for you, for about six years, this time this year. I think the best of him too, but you’re twenty-four now, and I hope you grow out of his shell into that gorgeous old soul, that old gorgeous old dress.
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*Maintenant 03:27

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It's no good

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released May 6, 2016

Recorded/Mixed/Mastered @ NuTone Studios w/ Scott Goodrich.
Album Artwork by Kayla Campbell.
2016

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Histories Springfield, Missouri

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