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Evyn

by Reason To Care

/
1.
I‘m running. I‘m running on lonely roads. I‘m running. I‘m running all alone. I‘m running. I‘m running on empty streets. Bygone days get buried beneath my feet. I‘m running alone. A winsome force is calling me and it‘s begging me to leave. Nothing should hold you now. Please leave, please leave! The trees are swaying in the wind. There’s no chance for me to climb the crowns cause they‘d throw me back to ground. I could need my kite to travel high up to the sky to see what‘s dragging me away from home. I remember that you were even too weak to speak – breathing hard – just too afraid for me. Please dry your tears. I wrote a note. Mom, trust me, I’ll be back soon. No voice. No sound. It‘s as quiet as the sphere round the burial mound. A magic – a mystery. I want to find the place it wants me to be. It wants me to run faster. It‘s calling frequently. I give myself a pinch to see if I am possibly dreaming. Everything‘s real. I am wide awake and I am leaving everything behind. I‘ve got my beloved blanket in my bag and those everlasting thoughts in my mind. Myriads of fireflies lighten me the way into the world of shimmering lights and it feels quite okay.
2.
Dream 04:19
Mother nature moved out a long time ago. She was not able to breath anymore when the grey tide came and flood her lungs. The only river carving through the concrete is made of steel (and) it‘s not that spirit-soothing as it should be. (I‘m sure that) she would have provided us a perfect tree and we‘d live along with all the other earthlings in a big treehouse close to the sea. Oh what a dream. I am trying to recall the singing of the nightingale but its way to loud. The noise devours every single verse and I’m slowly sinking down to the ground. I am drifting from one stream into another just as a tiny drop getting caught up in a massive maelstrom. I am lost but no one minds. No one cares. They‘re all just too fascinated by the glaring mobile lights. No, this is not where I belong – it‘s not a place to fall in love. I‘m struggling to reach the surface again. I receive a helping hand. My saving grace! …And in the next moment he‘s vanished without a trace. The neon lights will never ever shine as bright as the twinkling stars. The Milky Way leads me into the green. Two oaks are the last witnesses of former times. The wildlife has long gone. I need a rest. The bench held by their roots will be my roofless home for tonight. A person tries to find a resting place in my neighborhood. It‘s the man who saved me from the deep. At the moment he‘s not the superhero he used to be. He‘s wandering aimlessly. All hope has gone. The flowers are slowly fading. Leave me be. You should better leave me be. No! Please join my journey. Come with me. Boy, its not that simple to get away. Run and try to make the best of every day.
3.
Fading 05:26
I am envious of the cottages being embedded in Mother Nature’s arms. Even their rooftops are sheltered by her hands and nearby the seashore, as an always-faithful friend. It feels like being caught in a fairy tale. A delightful holiday seems to revive the townlet. The school bells didn’t even ring today and children’s eyes beam with joy. Once met, happiness floods every single corner of ones own little universe – and being in a state of weightlessness, I am out of reach for my doubts. Suddenly engine noises announce the arrival and everyone is heading for the seaside – even faster than before – creating an undertow. I am not able to escape. I am trying to cut my way through the villagers pushing them to the left and to the right – just aside. Grass turns sand, we’re leaving land and the ocean kindly embraces my feet. All of a sudden the world turns upside down. My feet are losing solid ground. I bid them welcome with a tear. My heartbeat’s losing cheerful sound. Their green mile is ending here. Merciless eyes are watching merciless hooks and knives, driven by merciless hands, turning off lights. The choir is losing voice after voice and the ballad is losing steam. It took them a heartbeat to paint the bay in red. My head swims while the crimson wanders away into the distance swallowing the blue. Ropes drag the mute giants onshore – treated as soulless goods. Trophies of an annual ritual – a murder – a murder they call tradition. I can sense every single beat fading away and it makes me kind of fading away as well. What stays – empty shells and emptiness. Could somebody tell me, who is going to sing the songs of the deep blue sea hereafter? Dear daughters, mothers, sons and fathers: “They are one of a kind. Like every you and me.”
4.
5.
I am still gazing into the distance and my view settles down at the horizon line. All of a sudden, I am able to recall shapes of a person trespassing the field of my vision. The person draws closer and the film fades out. My hands slide into the pockets of my jeans to explore the depths. I am left in disbelief as my left hand brings a small parcel, wrapped in an old newspaper, to light. Impatiently, I try to unwrap the bundle, but it takes a while as I lost control over my hands trembling in excitement. In the next moment a tiny pendant drops out of the paper into the palm of my hand. It’s a little whale disappearing in my pocket again. Desperately, I try to forget the bundle, but it will take a while. The scenes of yesterday are still spinning inside my head. Just like a humming-top, spinning and spinning, they‘ll spin forever. On the edge to throw the newspaper away, a photo attracts my attention. It’s the sea again. But where’s all the shiny blue? My eyes run over the text to reach another photo. I am confused. It’s black, which shimmers at the surface and I can discover how the white light of the sun gets split into all colours of the rainbow. Oh, how they lie pretending a life of ease. The photos should have been printed in greyscale! The black mass ties every single soul to the ground. Featherweight turns heavyweight. ...And there‘s no escape. I think we are guilty. I know we are guilty! ...And there‘s no escape. Yes we are guilty of building sad landscapes. We are taking the air to fly. We are taking the water to swim. We are taking the soil to grow. We are ending lives. Birds should fly sky-high, shouldn’t they? …And fishes should dive deep, to peacefully fall asleep!
6.
The railway ends and the doors open. The people disappear in the dust cloud that the train brought along. I am left alone and it‘s hard to breath. I am trying to hold on to the rays sent by the sun and finally the dust shows mercy and sets me free. This place is a joy to behold. Golden vines are climbing up the marble walls. Splendid colours let my eyes skip through the labyrinthine world. Delicate billows of smoke swan through the alleys to spread the sweet smell of tea. Please tell me if this is the place you want me to be. A side street leads me through an archway made of silk. The patterns – sun-drenched are shining so bright. The kids enliven the pavement – I join the game. Hours pass, time knows how to fly. Dusk is falling and everyone is heading home but I‘ve got nowhere to go. Maybe the boy is able to let me know. The blood in my veins let my fingers form signs and I hope that they‘re going to draw pictures in his mind. He seems to have an answer and takes me down the road. I am still on a journey into the unknown. We stop at the second last house on the right. He opens the door and leads me inside. The people welcome me with open arms. They offer me a seat, something to drink and something to eat. It makes me feel quite fine. This is what I was waiting for since the day I broke down to the floor. A feeling of security, so pleasant, so unique. It‘s like climbing a mountain and reaching the peak. I felt alone – felt our time running fast when I went down to the lake to release my tears to the grass. A heart is beating to keep you alive. A family is like a beating heart, so fundamental for life.
7.
Teardrop Sea 03:53
The firmament turns black that is in love with indigo and violet. These need to be the Northern Lights of the Middle East. The colours change so beautifully. I‘d like to send a satellite to bring them down to me. I‘d save them in a glass to show everyone how heavenly life can be. It‘s Friday night and I recall the day in my dreams. I remember the powerful and vibrant scenes. Even my blanket was waving in the wind – it plead for peace. The kids took me to school to paint the walls. ...we ran away. We escaped luckily. Something‘s interrupting the ease and it drags me out of my daydream. I am sure that it‘s no thunderstorm, but it scares me even more. We gather in the kitchen – a few hearts might be braver than one. Who send all these falling stars? I used to love them but this time it feels unwell. The walls burst into pieces and millions of little comets hurtle through the air. There is no shelter – no place to go. The ashes fall to the ground like blackened snow. There is no shelter – no place to hide. I remember the day they told me how his sister died. We managed to get down to the moonlit streets and now I am facing them in a gloomy scene. He‘s losing balance. He‘s losing grip and he drops down to his knees. He holds him tight – they are sinking together – they are drowning in the tide of the teardrop sea. He lays his ear on the pale chest to travel inside. The young heart stopped beating. The little hero has gone. My new friend and his sun. They have sent him to the never ending night.
8.
Arrows 04:07
The thunder has gone and daydreaming kept me alive. The storm has changed into a light breeze, so lovely and kind. The clouds flew away to let the sun shine. I won‘t shed hope and freedom is mine. I came down to the porch to inhale the breath that daybreak sends. The leaves found their peace once more and a few are stroking my hands before they land on the wooden floor. I would give everything to have him right beside me. A sudden noise makes me turn around. Mom appears in the door frame to wave me goodbye. Son please hurry! I want you to be back soon again. The forest welcomes me with open arms. Here in the dense and peaceful undergrowth is no space for concrete walls. The cities are a long way away now and the nightingale chirps again. The delightful scent of pine wafting up to my nose embeds me in total perfection. I‘m reaching a birch tree, which glows so bright, standing in between the conifers. A scene so complete and familiar. Five hand-painted arrows nailed to its stem point in different directions. Grey looks too sad. The red one wants to send me back. The arrow painted blue is pointing up to the sky remembering me to keep my head up high. Green or rose? It‘s up to you. In the end you‘ll reach your destination. Rose or green? It‘s up to me – I do already feel the white foam of the sea.
9.
The Shell 02:26
The wooden pieces are getting shaped to fit together – and they do just perfectly. He‘s treating every single plank with a lot of care and so tenderly. He‘s writing the screenplay for his own dream and in the end he may travel to places he has never been before. The paint is going to protect the shell. Oh, I think my blanket would play the perfect sail. The breeze arriving from the ocean lifts the sketches to let them dance around the boat. This is the lightest whirlwind I’ve ever seen in my life. He‘s taking a break. I am taking a break. Our glances hover just above the water surface towards infinity. The horizon welcomes us where fire and water meet to combine for the dramatic and breathtaking peak of the day. This is freedom. This is freedom! This seems to be the paradise. This is freedom. This is the paradise.
10.
Dear Mother 05:27
…And then it sails into my mind. The ship in a bottle – the heart of his room – placed on the nightstand next to his bed. It was dressed in blue, green and white. The dreamer and his boat – a déjà vu – it wore the same outfit. Perfectly bedded in orange light sent by the fire that welcomes the night. Now he‘s gone and the questions remain. I could send him some words written in stone. I’d skip it over the ocean to ask him why he travels alone. ...and I’d like to know, if he carries any sweet memories. Sailor, if you receive my stone, please answer me. The fireflies came out of the blue to enlighten the street that carried my feet. The rain was pouring down. All the best to the man who sent me out of the cruel town. I was wandering for weeks, sometimes on broken glass. I remember the thunderstorm. It drove me fast. Those arrows nailed to the tree. They told me where to go. The journey is coming to an end. Good bye my beloved sea. I am running. I‘m running again. I‘ll follow your voice. I am sorry that I left you alone but I had no choice. I‘ve promised you to be back soon. Now it‘s up to the man in the moon. I‘ll ask him to light me my way back home – the way back into your arms. Oh, I miss you. Oh how I miss you. Dear Mother, there‘s something you should know. It might be hard to believe and it may sound like a dream. Dear Mother, I’ve seen him alive – your son and my brother.

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SP#20

Ambient Hardcore from Eastern Germany
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released August 29, 2014

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