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1. |
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It was an early Monday, cold and dark, in the dead of winter. I had received a mysterious email, written by a man who called himself "Dr. They", to this day I do not know his first name or how he found me. I guess his proposal was too bizarre for me to ever naturally ask. He claimed that he had been choosing subjects at random for a new musical therapy experiment. He created the prototype for an immersive audio virtual reality machine that converts your current state of being into musical form, expressing your mood lyrically, melodically, and rhythmically. He apparently had cultivated a group of followers, and wanted me to call him to have a conversation about meeting with the group. Obviously I could not resist. I don’t believe in a god or gods, but if they exist, by the grace of the heavenly emperors yonder, I found myself at a research facility in Berlin, Germany the following week, and I was about to become immersed inside of the contained reality of my first song.
Forget the lights at the top of the stage.
Forget the heading in bold at the top of the page.
I promise this life's not a cage.
And I promise you mourning comes with age.
Forget the notion that we live.
In a trudging broken down machine with nothing to give.
I promise we can't change it right away.
And I promise if we try and fail we'll live to see the day.
We put too much faith in our own self-reflections.
We think the whole world wants to see our projections.
T(he)
H(eavenly)
E(mperors)
Y(onder)
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2. |
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I couldn’t believe the depth of this experience. My whole being tingled as I came back into the room. Dr. They and some of the other test subjects said that my consciousness was immediately creating some sort of story, musically, as if my most inner feelings were trying to tell me something. None of the other subjects had this effect. He wanted me to connect to his machine again, so that he could allow my story to continue. I want to know where my story goes, but I do not know if I can trust this group or this mysterious doctor. I had never felt more just…absolutely reluctant energy in my life.
I can't be this thing.
Needing a place in this space to perpetually cling.
Someone take my thoughts.
I'm too scared to die also too scared to do what I ought.
Absolutely reluctant energy is what I am
Absolutely reluctant energy is what we A.R.E.
Average attempts to
Reflect on who you are
Can be quite bizarre
And thusly frowned upon.
Absolutely reluctant energy is what I am
Absolutely reluctant energy is what we A.R.E.
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3. |
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The curiosity that made me want to continue with these experiments was in no way logical. Purely emotion based intuition with little regard for my own safety. Why I felt so drawn to this group was based on my own irrational self interests regarding mystery and adventure. It was very ill-advised. I couldn’t put my finger on why I still wanted to hear more from Dr. They. He was clearly manipulative, miserable, lost, and a bit cold-hearted. But that man could speak and have a whole room listen intently. The instant to follow him was impulsive and irrational. This instinct is exactly how emotions ruin everything.
Clear the room! I need to
See myself, see the truth.
Doubts are strong. Empty vague
Thoughts of death; echoing.
Honestly, that might be
What I need, to break free
From this shell, find the next
Me to be. We shall see.
This lost mind is full of doubt and pride.
Why must I act so brave? Why can’t I just behave?
I know that this is a just a phase.
I told myself the truth.
I did not want to hear.
Emotions told me to.
It’s all that they could do.
So now I’ve lost my way.
I’d start again today
But I’m so tired now.
Clear the room! I need to
See myself, see the truth.
Doubts are strong. Empty vague
Thoughts of death; echoing.
Honestly, that might be
What I need, to break free
From this shell, find the next
Me to be. We shall see.
This is intention clouded by emotion
Colliding with memory. I’m sick at the notion.
I wish I could focus on what will advance me.
The chance of awakening is lost in the ocean of sleep.
And now I lay my head. I’m resting in a bed
Of lies and my regrets. There’s nothing left to get.
I’ll turn the other cheek. I’d rather just be meek.
My legs just always shake. I’m burning from mistakes.
I need to call it quits. But “it" won’t answer this.
I guess I will just sit. Better not to commit.
I’ll stay inside my room. My life will not resume.
I’ll never see the sun. I’ll hide from everyone.
Goodbye before hello. I guess you’ll never know me.
Clear the room! I need to
See myself, see the truth.
Doubts are strong. Empty vague
Thoughts of death; echoing.
Honestly, that might be
What I need, to break free
From this shell, find the next
Me to be. We shall see.
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4. |
A Man Of No Gestures
03:57
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Last night I had a dream in the form of song. Within the context of the lyrics, Dr. They was up in the sky in a space ship, and I couldn’t see his face or his body language or gestures, but I could feel his intention with every breath I took. While he had a good heart, he cared far too much about his research to actually have regard for any of his test subjects. I really hope this was not a mistake. Dreaming of the doctor as a man of no gestures is surely not a great sign.
Look outside. That's where he resides.
Out there. Beyond the sky. Watching you and I.
Look outside. That's where he resides.
Out there. Beyond the sky. Watching you and I.
Up above what’s visible.
The changing lights give view to
Dr. They, the honest man
Who has no way of gesturing.
Now we wait for his design
We are among the man of no gestures
How will we know when he’s finished?
The world in his eyes but he’s never surprised
Why can he make me diminish?
He put his life in a box and he buried it deep
I squinted and thought that he grimaced
But no such gesture of face or hand is visible
The lights around him are dimmest.
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5. |
Undivided Sentience
03:45
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At a certain point in the experimenting, Dr. They wanted to see what would happen if he put 2 test subjects into the same song…subjects that were involved…romantically. I had been dating one of my fellow subjects whom I will not name for confidentiality. We hit it off one night after an experiment, when everyone else was gone, and had only been dating about a month. So our love was fresh, and vulnerable, and yet the doctor had chosen us to test an attachment for his machine that would take her into a song with me at the same time. She thought it would be even better for the state of our relationship if she were to be in one of my songs. I feared this, because we each individually had our issues. We both had this deep seeded issue with being alone, and we were battling with it constantly along side each other, but in stark contrast emotively. So this is where it got strange for me, this made me feel the most apprehensive overall, but at the same time I wanted to stay true to the research. Dr. They said that the procedure ran the risk of "undivided sentience”, two minds merging permanently, we would be stuck in the same love song forever.
I caught you at a time you were on your own.
Needed someone who could handle your “tone".
If only you were not standing there alone
that night.
I never knew we’d end up to call this “us”
It scared me that you always would make a fuss
About the things I might need when all that was
was you.
Now it’s undivided sentience.
Go. Just be you.
Learn that the feelings of fear are a symptom of truth.
Find solitude.
When real loneliness comes about you will know what to do.
Go. Just be you.
Learn that the feelings of fear are a symptom of truth.
How could you have been so alone before?
You block me when I move towards the door.
Even if I just want to take a walk
you cling.
I asked you for some space. You wasted no time.
You kissed me on my face and gave me this rhyme.
You said if you were in one of my songs we’d
be fine.
Now it’s undivided sentience.
Go. Just be you.
Learn that the feelings of fear are a symptom of truth.
Find solitude.
When real loneliness comes about you will know what to do.
Undivided sentience.
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6. |
Anxiety Never Dies
04:08
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The group has gotten strange. It was starting to feel like a cult. After the success of the experiment between my "lover" and I, Dr. They and everyone have been expecting us to lead the team in ways be never wanted or promised we ever could. It’s causing me to buckle under pressure, and I think I might need to back away for a while and relax. So I got another random email, this time from a resort that helps people after they go through certain traumatic testing experiences. I was obviously very hesitant because I didn’t want to get roped into a whole other thing at this point, but it seemed like it might help me unwind. It was called WATCHcorp, and despite their awful vibe I found myself in their office. Turns out, anxiety never dies.
I’ve got my eye on this beast that
Weighs down my shoulders obstructing
Peace of mind and motivation
To continue this life’s devotion.
It’s not a lot but it’s enough
To put a pressure on me I can’t fathom.
I’m sure it will all melt away.
Until it happens I will just imagine
A little world where my problems don’t exist
Within the patterns of my neuron synapse.
But when I snap back to the room I’m in
I’m always thankful that my brain didn’t collapse.
I’ve got my eye on this beast that
Weighs down my shoulders obstructing
Peace of mind and motivation
To continue this life’s devotion.
Anxiety never dies.
Even when you close your eyes.
Anxiety never dies.
Even when your eyes tight .
There is hope in the moment.
If I could only see.
It’s not a lot but it’s enough
To put a pressure on me I can’t fathom.
I’m sure it will all melt away.
Until it happens I will just imagine
A little world where my problems don’t exist
Within the patterns of my neuron synapse.
But when I snap back to the room I’m in
I’m always thankful that my brain didn’t collapse.
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7. |
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I found out some interesting things about WATCHcorp. The people in charge refer to themselves secretly as "The Callused Hounds of Light and Truth", and their promise was a great one. The company itself had a message of giving poor people access to luxurious high end spa/resort experiences combined with on-site experimental psychiatrists, and they were not fond of Dr. They’s research. They spoke of people coming to them over and over with complaints that Dr. They’s experiments had changed their psyche for the worse, causing the subjects to have “dreams in the form of songs" about him dominating the world without needing to speak or even gesture at all. They also said that in these song-dreams sometimes WATCHcorp would appear as Dr. They’s antagonist, and would simply say “We are the callused hounds of truth, and we are among you and watch your every move.” And that’s how they got their name.
We watch as the world crumbles to pieces.
We pick and we chew at the scraps.
The boss sounds his whistle, and throws us some gristle.
We gnarl and we gnaw as we all lose control of ourselves.
Self, ish ways, of Dr. They are unexcused and
Way, out of, line. They snorted that before our
Time. We think, we have control of it like we’ve been
Fine. I’ll just, agree with what won’t make me lose my mind.
We watch as the world crumbles to pieces.
We pick and we chew at the scraps.
The boss sounds his whistle, and throws us some gristle.
We gnarl and we gnaw as we all lose control of ourselves.
Selfish ways of Dr. They are unexcused and
Way out of line. They snorted that before our
Time. We think we have control of it like we’ve been
Fine. I’ll just agree with what won’t make me lose my mind.
Brutal actions claimed by "masters" to be that of righteous manner are false.
Those who hold a moral standard will encompass all in shelter and peace.
We build up the world with it’s crumbling pieces.
We naturally divide the scraps.
The boss drops his whistle, destroys all his missiles,
We all dance and laugh till our lives end inside an abyss.
Selfless ways of everyone are needed always.
That is the line. We’ll cross it every single
Time. We need to have control of it and we’ll be
Fine. I’ll just agree with what won’t make me waste my time.
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8. |
Open Up Reality
05:30
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I had another dream. Well, this one was a nightmare. I found myself stuck in a musical sleep paralysis of some sort, unable to wake with a song of my own creation. The voices in the song were voices of my own, taunting me and pleading with me to open up my reality and feel the endless flow of my existence. The voices promised that when I die, I will never go away completely, just to another plane; in a new reality where this life will be forgotten. Once I finally gave up trying to wake up, the voices stopped, but the music continued and began to feel hopeful and pleasant. It made me realize that no matter where I searched or what I was doing throughout my life, it was all because of this void inside me. I am so gullible because of trying to feel this void. That’s why it’s so easy for me to fall into these cult situations. Maybe for me, god, is being able to let go, to allow a higher unseen force instinctually tame the chaos of my internal void. I may have finally figured out how to open up this reality. I emailed Dr. They about meeting up for another experiment.
Open wide deep inside.
Open up reality,
Enjoy the endless flow
Of your existence!
I promise when you die
You’ll never go away;
Just to another plane,
this life forgotten.
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9. |
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Dr. They was quiet when I entered his office this time. He went through the normal routine of hooking me up to his machine without saying much at all. The song that came out of me during this experiment lyrically revealed to him that I knew his plan, so, in turn, he revealed to me he was choosing people that react to his experiments in complex ways so that he could trap them in audio form forever and experiment on them. This was his plan from the start. He had lost his mind just as I suspected. The sensation of actually being transformed into sound is amazing, but to experience it forever would drive you insane. You would become one long vague song, every vague evening riddling you more and more into oblivion. Why would he want to do this? I was still strapped to his table unable to move.
Oh Dr. They you’ve learned to gesture well!
Where did you get those feelings? Please do tell!
Trapped in your sound experiments I’m nothing but an empty shell.
Time and time again you kept me melodic.
We were undivided in songs episodic.
I felt the world become you, Dr. They!
Every vague evening riddled me away!
I wasn’t sure of your great master plan:
Trap me in these songs as long as you can!
When I met you it felt like I was safe but deep
Down I knew it was too good to be true.
You creeped to the surface of my most deep desires,
Now I am stuck in recordings of your preaching to acquire
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10. |
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I don’t know how it happened. Dr. They hooked me up to the machine again while I was still strapped down, but this time, I pulled him inside a song with me, just like he had done before with my anonymous lover and I. WATCHcorp had snuck into the lab before this and the previous experiment adjusting Dr. They’s machine to make it recognize his DNA immediately. When we entered the song together, my melodies dueled with his until the bitter end. By the time he had realized he was trapped, it was too late. WATCHcorp came in and extracted me from the song before the good ol’ Doctor had time to escape. He was sealed inside. To this day I think of Dr. They as a wise old owl, working all night and sleeping all day, with ambitions growing exceedingly delirious despite a greater sense of wonder and intellect. But as with all things, many owls vanish eternally.
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Good NightOwl Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Good NightOwl is a moniker of the composer/recording artist Daniel Lewis Cupps. Cupps is also a television editor, 3D animator, and actor. This project is dedicated to allowing the public to see a self-producing musical artist grow over time with barely any budget. Some of it is meant to be funny, some of it is serious. If it all seems funny to you, then it is all meant to be funny. ... more
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