Return.

 After a 2 month hiatus I have returned to the airwaves on KMBT Radio. If you feel it then check it out. http://www.combatmusicradio.com/returntozero/mp3/rtz0130.mp3

Beyond The Pale at Roadburn April 25, 2009

 There is an extremely interactive blog that will be updated by the bands/artists throughout the festival. Please take the time to check this out if you would like a unique look at what goes down over the weekend in Tilborg. Be well.  http://beyondthepaleatroadburn.blogspot.com/

The Need.

To bleed. 

All the time. 

To get out the bad blood and renew from the source. 

Fresh images expressed to my brain. 

Old pictures imprinted from the path of my soul.

Relive the wars.

Declare the promise that never strays.

Let it flow as it should, let it stain as should, let it grow as it should, let it spill from my heart.

Deepest Red.

 She was abandoned by her teenage Father when she was 1 year old. He would try to make it right, but he could not reverse the the damage he had done.

She never forgave him.

He will never forgive himself.

 She lived a full life. Experiencing all that she could find. Repeating the pain of her abandonment with every man in her Fathers wake. Destroyed. Degraded. Left in a ditch. Left in a trailer. Over and over again. 

Her fire raged.

She couldn't stop the pain. 

She loved her people. 

She could not love herself. 

 She couldn't see herself, because if she had she would have known the dream that I saw in her eyes. She would have known the sun that she brought to me in her smile. 

She fought through it all. Fierce.

 The first time I met her she stole some candy and gave it to me. She made me laugh. She always made me feel like I was okay. She was my mirror, and for the first time, I liked what I saw.

 

Her heart was deepest red.

 As the years took their toll, the wounds cut to the core. The weight of it all was unbearable. The losses were insurmountable. 

The decisions of the past reverberate in eternity.

 Today she will know that she will soon be gone. That it will all finally be over. The struggle is given, the outcome has been written. Time will always take its share in the end. 

 

 I wish for her to haunt me. I want her twinkle in my eye. I want her ghost in my dreams. I want her laugh in my soul. I wish for her pure heart to feel the grace of light. Please let the pain die first.

Let her children shine.

Pride.

  I used to think that pride was necessary in all moments of my life. It was the foundation of many of my thoughts and movements in my life. I now realize how much it has stunted my evolution as a man. 

 The things that I end up fighting over will inevitably run over the things that I need to be fighting through when my pride becomes wounded. 

 I am on the beginning of this realization. I have seen through myself and what I see is fragile.

 I can become what I need to be only by evolving and getting past the small, scared, lonely kid in the corner that I used to be. My pride becomes tied up in the smallest most insignificant moments. I have created a line within myself that no one else could possibly know, and when the line is crossed I react in a pride filled hurtful way. My capacity to hurt appears endless within the limits of what I perceive through my pride. The pride fuels my rage and my rage knows no bounds. I am trying to leave so much of what I have become behind. I'm trying to bring this thing in me to where I want it to be, not where it feels comfortable nesting in my head. 

"This is Toe, you know what to do"

 Neurosis had a gig get cancelled at the last minute in Birmingham, Alabama sometime around 1993. 

 For those of you don't know about Birmingham it has a deep, dark and violent history mainly concerning race but in general it is a hard place to be different whatever that may mean to you. We had played there many times over the years previous and had such memorable experiences such as playing for a promoter named "Big Toe"(the above title refers to his answering machine), to playing a venue directly across the street from a hole in the wall(literally) crackhouse with a line 30 people deep all night(more then a few extremely fast crackhead fistfights that night), to 3 drunken middle aged Klansmen showing up outside the venue in the middle of the ghetto proclaiming loudly for all to hear "Any Niggers around here need to know, that the Klan is here to sort'em out". Yeah they hate Catholics too but I'm not sure if these particular assholes knew that. Anyway what I'm getting at is that Birmingham is tense, all the time. So when we are in Birmingham we are more guarded and watchful then usual.

 

 It was the middle of summer and it was hot and extremely humid in the van so we decided to blow off some steam. There was a park across the street from the venue(which was locked down) and we decided to go drink, smoke, eat sandwiches, and be in the sun until the evening before we went on to the next destination. There was a marquee on the venue, it was an old movie theater. After being across the street for an hour or so Jason and Pete suddenly got up and Jason said "Finish up, we'll be right back" with intent and urgency. We all knew each other well to know if someone spoke in that way it was serious, especially in a place like Birmingham, Alabama, and we started finishing up whatever we were doing and standing up to go. They walked over to the van and moved it underneath the marquee and both of them jumped onto the roof of the van(treacherous move at best) in a matter of moments they had rearranged every letter on the previously scattered and unreadable marquee to say one singular word that none of us will ever forget...ALIENREPTILEGOATGOD. Jason turned around and with his most devious smile and with a twinkle in his eye he said "Uh,we should go".

 We were already running for the van. I always wondered if the promoter who fucked us out our gig saw it and how long it stayed up there before they took it down. Goodnight Birmingham.

13.

  Checking in. Checking out. I'm in between the realms of reality. I'm still missing a few important pieces to the puzzle that I threw against the wall a few weeks ago... A few months ago... A few years ago... Over and over again. 

 I'm trying to stop dieing. Inside and out. I am tired of death. 

 I realize that my path has and been and will continue to be wrought with treacherous experience and the weight of many more then I would think I could hold.

 But I can hold them. I can hold it all. I have no choice. By definition it is who I am.

 I love to express myself in as pure a way as possible. This is why I love to fight. This is why I love to bleed. This is why I am able to survive on the inside, while everything else falls apart. 

 I know that I do hold this experience in solitude.

 I know that there are many more of us out there. 

 I know that most of you don't understand, and I hope that you never do. 

 But for those of us who are in it...thanks for checking in.