A wreath is commonly practiced Pagan ritual that still continues here; we are born Pagan: pagan is the natural state of the fallen man Even in this traditionally indoctrinated Christian land where we proudly display the symbols of our faith, every man has the wreath; every one does not question the wreath. They accept the traditions of our fallen fathers and press forward as if we weren't upon something. The Monolith is dark and impenetrable: some say is was a pyramid, and other say it was a tower; regardless of what is was God knocked it down.
Today is October 3rd, 2010 I'm sitting at my sisters house, at a very large piece of what they would call furniture. I've recently learned that she will be collected for soon; I wanted to come here, and ask her to sing with me. Together we will make this record: "The WoodGrain Sessions." This session has tons of potential. I'm excited about putting it down. Today at lunch, as I was talking about the wreath, among other things, to my friends, they told me to make a wreath. That's really what music is: gathering things along your journey and spinning them into circles; it's how you understand them: make them make sense. Oh, the things I see. Do others see them like me? Oh, this WoodGrain: that secret grain of the sea I have finally found. Finding Harvest once again. C minor is just my Victim; She used to be my friend. This is an overflow of words.
Today is October 3rd, 2010 I'm sitting at my sisters house, at a very large piece of what they would call furniture. I've recently learned that she will be collected for soon; I wanted to come here, and ask her to sing with me. Together we will make this record: "The WoodGrain Sessions." This session has tons of potential. I'm excited about putting it down. Today at lunch, as I was talking about the wreath, among other things, to my friends, they told me to make a wreath. That's really what music is: gathering things along your journey and spinning them into circles; it's how you understand them: make them make sense. Oh, the things I see. Do others see them like me? Oh, this WoodGrain: that secret grain of the sea I have finally found. Finding Harvest once again. C minor is just my Victim; She used to be my friend. This is an overflow of words.
WoodGrain in the sea. Is this something I have found, or something that I have seen? Perhaps it is a place from my past where I once left seeds.
"The Monolith" pages: 009-010
**Note that what is read here has be edited and revised from the original manuscript by the author
