nomoore01

[nomoore01]

An Excerpt from “The Occult and Mystical Foundation of Rock and Roll” by Cynthia Roberts(Miskatonic University, Massachusetts):

Whether it be the crossroads guitars of the early blues, the demonic corruptions of noisy amps, or the flesh transcending tendencies of autotune(Robert Johnson casually tossing the pick of destiny forward through time: splitting, morphing and manifesting within the compositions of all that came after) no accumulation of ancient energies has been greater than the singular distillation of pure sonic force that appeared in the early 21st century bursting out of the fingers of rock prophet and high school student JC.

Casady School student Tyler Semet(known worldwide as a master connoisseur of hats) relates in his oral history of JC’s time in this realm that “Occasionally the library [at casady school] would be closed for seemingly no reason. Many of my classmates wrote this off to be the result of our librarians eccentricities, but I had my suspicions. One time I hadn’t finished a synthesis paper over some random, irrelevant books, so I decided I'd just skip lunch at Calvert [the cafeteria] and knock it out then. Unfortunately I'd left my laptop at home, but like, it was gonna be fine, cause I could just use the library, right? Well…no cause when I walked up to the library after everyone was gone, I tried the door, and realized I forgot that Mrs. Craft locks the doors to the library while we go to lunch. I was pretty frustrated, and I kinda thought I was gonna be screwed, and I started to just walk the outside of the library while I typed the sketch of my paper out on my phone. Kinda stuck in my phone, I didn’t notice that there was an old metal panel on the ground by the west side of the library. Obliviously clomping on top of it, my foot snagged on a little handle sticking up out of the ground and I tripped, causing my phone to fly through the air. Rattled, I…uh… jumped up and rushed to my phone, only to find it had been utterly rekt by the drop. [...]

When I finally came to my senses, I noticed that my clumsy ass had pulled the panel slightly open when I tripped on it. Already on a..uh.. path of destruction, I figured investigating what was underneath this panel couldn’t make things any worse. Pulling back the panel, I could hear strange melodies seeping up and out of the dusty staircase trailing into the darkness that greeted me below. Still curious, I carefully began to make my descent, slowly dipping into darkness, until the only thing around me was the music and the feeling of my feet stepping down deeper into whatever horror greeted me at the bottom of these stairs. It felt like id been goin’ on forever, at this point my synthesis essay felt like a thing of the past, and all I could really think about was…that music, seeping into my pores and playing off the inner desires I hardly knew about at such a young age, taking away the stress and worry and replacing it with an intoxicating and entrancing urge to give in, give in to the swaying tides of the pools of music that surround us daily. I had gotten so outta my head that I hardly noticed when I reached the bottom stair.

At this point, the music had grown to be as loud as any good concert should be, and the entrance I'd been through just a short while ago was now just a little pinprick of light up above me. Senses overwhelmed and blotted out, my eyes could hardly make out the metal door off to the side, deadbolt attached but unlocked. Figuring that I'd made it this far I might as well keep investigating, I grabbed the door handle and flung it open.

Immediately:

Light light like liquid crashing against the scraggy rocks of a bay rushed out and broke me down into a whimpering puddle of goo on the ground, submitting fully to the all powerful physical force, the beast that the music was and the sights it showed me, the history of this land from farming food and horses to children's minds growing closely together into a community of one. The devil chained and fed the rotting sin of leftover food from above. The sheer torture of music transcribed by the pureness of the universe. So I see so I see so I see.

Till the light leaves and I black out empty.

When I finally came to, I was right where I’d fallen earlier. My phone was still where it had come tumbling down. The sun told me no time had passed at all. Except for the light traffic of Penn avenue, silence lay with me under the tall trees. I carefully got to my feet. The Metal panel was gone, replaced by a layer of leaves. I rushed to my phone, and saw it had been utterly rekt by the drop. Suddenly I saw someone walk out in my periphery from behind the library. It was Jc. He was sweating a bit, and smiling large. “Hey Tyler!” he smirked, “you fall?”

This was the first time I got a hint as to the full extent of JC’s powers. I only wish I better understood what I saw.”

[End of Excerpt]

[nomoore01]

How are you so sexy

A Strong Cult of Personality

[nomoore01]

You keep appearing in my dreams but in an oddly romantic manner

You keep appearing in my dreams, but in an oddly "Who are you?! I don't even know who you are!" manner

[nomoore01]

Dying unexpectedly in a health related way or I-fucked-with-knowledge-too-much way?

John Stamos ????

Dying Watching Fuller House

[nomoore01]

To the girl in the hotel room across from my mind.

When I wake, I will try to bring you with me, but know that even in this foreign land of consciousness, what was said will stay in my mind forever, and your actions will reflect in every interaction encountered on the outside.

Your face was like a distillation of purity itself. The way you held me on the edge of that internal balcony overlooking the massive lobby a few hours before the guests trickled in for their complimentary breakfast, the way you whispered the secret of meaning, I saw how everything was okay. I will feel those arms when I teeter on the brink of falling again.

They say that every person one meets in their dreams is a refraction of something in the real world. I can only hope it works both ways.

[nomoore01]

wooah! that's a cool sound. there's definitely a market for pieces like this. you could absolutely take this professionally

[nomoore01]

Headache (Finger Lobotomy)

I've had this really low and subtle throbbing headache right at the front of my head for the last 24 hours, and it sucks cause anytime I have headaches like that I feel an even stronger urge than normal to pick my nose. I push and poke and dig till accidentally *scritch * a little scrap at the back of my nostril happens. These little openings scare me horribly. As a recovering chronic nose picker, it might be surprising that I often feel incredibly uncomfortable about the idea of something entering my bloodstream and destroying my body within a matter of minutes. I guess the nostril is still surface level enough to outweigh the fear of fucking up my body, though you'd think its closeness to the brain would only serve to amplify it.

I sometime have dark daydreams about one day picking my nose and sneezing, which causes me to push too deep, and *squish* breaking through and lightly jabbing the frontal cortex. A little body shock would follow, causing me to push harder and I would have to use all my self control to stop spasming and gently pull my finger out. Trepanated nose picking. At least I’d have a unique Wikipedia entry

[nomoore01]

Not that this will happen anytime soon but if i die unexpectedly open ableton, look for the most recent file with the word track list in the title, and put that version on my bandcamp simply titled unfinished. Thanks!

[nomoore01]

but it IS storm season

It kinda nice tho.

If a poet and an artist were to be in love, who’d create the better song?

I must part now. My stomach hurts. Must be the hidden things.

Artist of what

[nomoore01]

A Careless Flight

anthropos is the crosswalk between the previous and the new. the shape of the cross is an elusive point of unity of two empty, abandoned and confused moments.

A careless flight.

[nomoore01]

Digital-June 2020

[nomoore01]

Sketch I made on July 11th 2020 that has me playing an shitty synth part on top of a cooler beat. The second half was cut out and used as an interlude on pictures taken out of tune. Thought it was cool to see the context.

[nomoore01]

Audio accompaniment to Bare Subconscious Travels.

[nomoore01]

[nomoore01]

[nomoore01]

Attention!

The screen without subject only references Attention. The Camera: The rear end of the screen           Turn on and point            Press down. The film begins against politics shift with youthful genius in prison. The political tide turns against the Revolution's own leaders.            With scenes of snowball fights like beautiful love           He flees his family to France           Forming plans in Corsica.