About Relinquish

Real Name: Will Hart
Gender: Male Male
Age: 24
Location: Christchurch, New Zealand NZ
Occupation: Student
Email: private
Platforms owned:
Signature
...My mind is racing faster every minute...
  • Interests

    Living my life as best I can
  • Biography

    Inner breathlessness, outer restlessness
    By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath
    Grandma asked me what I'm running for
    I guess I'm out for the same thing the sun is sunning for
    What mothers birth their youngens for
    And some say Jesus coming for.
    For all I know the earth is spinning slow
    Suns at half mast 'cause masses ain't aglow
    On bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree
    I've made the forest suit me
    Tables and chairs, papers and prayers, matter versus spirit
    A metal ladder
    A wooden cross
    A plastic bottle of water
    A mandala encased in glass
    A spirit encased in flesh
    Sound from shaped hollows
    The thickest of mucus released from heightened passion
    A man that cries in his sleep
    A truth that has gone out of fashion
    A mode of expression
    A paint splattered wall
    A carton of cigarettes
    A bouquet of corpses
    A dying forest
    A nurtured garden
    A privatized prison
    A candle with a broken wick
    A puddle that reflects the sun
    A piece of paper with my name on it
    I'm surrounded
    I surrender
    All
    All that I am I have been
    All I have been has been a long time coming
    I am becoming all that I am
    The spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute
    Unheard, yet felt
    A gathered wetness
    A quiet moisture
    Sound trapped in a bubble
    Released into wind
    Wind fellows and land merchants
    We are history's detergent
    Water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath
    Articles amending death
    These words are not tools of communication
    They are shards of metal
    Dropped from eight story windows
    They are waterfalls and gas leaks
    Aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf
    The tools of a trade
    Barbers barred, barred of barters
    Catch phrases and misunderstandings
    But they are not what I feel when I am alone
    Surrounded by everything and nothing
    And there isn't a word or phrase to be caught
    A verse to be recited
    A man to de-fill my being in those moments
    I am blankness, the contained center of an "O"
    The pyramidic containment of an "A"
    I stand in the middle of all that I have learned
    All that I have memorized
    All that I've known by heart
    Unable to reach any of it
    There is no sadness
    There is no bliss
    It is a forgotten memory
    A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking
    There, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless
    They are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness
    But then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence
    Who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas
    like dead rats held by their tails
    so as not to infect this newly oiled skin
    I can think of nothing heavier than an airplane
    I can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal
    I can think of nothing less likely to fly
    There are no wings more weighted
    I too have felt a heaviness
    The stare of man guessing at my being
    Yes I am homeless
    A homeless man making offerings to the after-future
    Sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles
    A nation unified in exhale
    A cloud of smoke
    A native pipe ceremony
    All the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps
    Snow covered mountains
    Lipsticks smeared and shriveled
    Offerings to an afterworld
    Tattoo guns and plastic wrappers
    Broken zippers and dead eyed dolls
    It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
    I have seeded a forest of myself
    Little books from tall trees
    It matters not what this paper be made of
    Give me notebooks made of human flesh
    Dried on steel hooks and nooses
    Make uses of use, uses of us
    It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
    I have seeded a forest of myself
    Little books from tall trees
    On bended knee
    Prostrate before an altered tree
    I've made the forest suit me
    Tables and chairs
    Papers and prayers
    Matter vs. spirit, through meditation
    I program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation

    Saul Williams, Blackalicious - Release
(0.2316/d/nova)