Willing to Take the Blame: 00:00 to 28:56 (Alena Had it All Translation)
The circumference of the Sun. It sets on burnt-ochre moss. Rising again, knocking on my window. It’s a continuous loop, see, the Energy. Repeating, but degrading. Entropy. Decay of light. Each revolution bringing new territory. The Sun improvises blue notes as the sky bruises yellow and pink. Light refracts inside shattered sky. Entropy. Things get darker. The tide rises, pulled by the ascending moon. Red turns to black. Out of the pink and blue and into the black. Charred sea swells. Stars appear repeated forever in discontinued heavens. Return to manufacturer. A wave sweeps all clouds away. A lull in activity as the stars begin to sing to each other. They sing sad Mensa refrain as a wave once more sweeps their voices into whispers. Crackling of static. Call-and-response. Walk, believer, walk. Stars intone Daniel refrain to the trees and the owls nested within. For a moment, for an eternity. The trees awaken from their slumber. They talk back. Inquisitive. Stars begin the weaving of intricate dances. Vocalize in dark matter. Explode. Tapes played in reverse. Continuous loop of Eternity. Cacophony in the sky. Trees are overwhelmed, wishing they had stayed in energic slumber. Staying in sap, stayed in wisdom. Twinkling supernovas calm. Beg understanding. Soothe with echoing predictability. Queer and reassuring. Monologue changes hands. Symmetry. Ocean begins to storm. Balance. Floods sky with crackling static of foam. Adds terrestrial accent to celestial discourse. I`ve picked up a few celestial ways of communication myself. Microphone with biologic tape playing backwards and harmonica in wooden body of two-stringed instrument. Finally rays of light from above tangle in the broken crystal ball of the atmosphere. Heron flies by in purple light. Refracted rainbow grows to sonic harmony. Light transforms to sound. Enlightenment of trees lulled back to sleep by rainbow symphony and scratchy twang of the moon. Sound of twilight crickets before time is slowed to a crawl. Les sons de la lune. The passing of subsequence in moon molasses. Dreaming with the trees, red and bleeding sap out of a knot at snail’s pace. Then moon screeches. Everything is now awake. Sleep paralysis filled with beauty. Explosions in the mist. Great engines backfiring in the sky. Smoke fills leaves as everything is once again hypnotized. Greasy black engines make way from Trans-Universal express. Whistle blows alongside crackle of barnacles dying. Trees listen to rocks. Rocks listen to sky. The trees learn wisdom of the elements. Quartz transmogrified to moonstone. The advent of technology. A phone that rings until the end of time. Steam engine begets magnetic locomotion to the place in between the In-Between. Bursts into flames on impact. Towering inferno of modern man. Ape with a violin. Use bow to crack nuts. Give all excess wood to the termites. Or put it on a car behind the Trans-Universal Express. Man passes torch to the sky. A vast an unwavering light over the wastelands. Apathetic elegy for those one the train. Tinged with melancholy. Tipped with the chorus of the flora. It gets dark. Then it gets light. Creation begins once again. Ground is sawed to pieces. Flowing blisters emerge. Beautiful massacre of dead land. In tandem, creation from the stars. And then light beyond perceptible frequency. So pure and violent it shines to ignorant planet. Chaos unknown. Subversive light of the One that Transcends Opinion. Then it shocks thru rumbling bass frequency even lower than groans of branches intelligence into mongoloid reptiles below. Gila monsters from beyond the grave. They write Beethoven’s 4th. Gila monsters from beyond Opinion. They listen to the beguiling pedantics of star rhythms.
