Torn Hawk – Let’s Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time Torn Hawk – Let’s Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time

Torn Hawk - Let's Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time (2014)

Torn Hawk – Let’s Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time (2014)

I used to be a savage sort of sentimentalist, ascribing value and merit to everyone and most everything that passed through my life with such a desperate need for history that I soon found myself overwhelmed by objects and individuals to which I had ascribed some profound, personal significance and without whom, I was certain, I would all but cease to exist as “ME!”

And I suppose I did when, one unremarkable evening, I decided to rid myself of the things which once shored the gist of my being and many of the folks irrevocably tethered to said objects in a wholly uninteresting albeit fiery purge.

I’m lying.

It wasn’t one night. Shit, it wasn’t even one week or a month or a year or any real notable course of time wherein which I set to void myself of the meaning I’d amassed but, sometime in the last twenty, thirty years it happened and I guess I’m happy about it but I don’t know, really.

I mean, I haven’t rid myself of everything. I still have a steamer trunk, ammo case and two cardboard boxes (each half) full of pictures, knick-knacks and folios. I also keep certain treasures in drawers, use others for bookmarks and each one of my bags has a hidden talisman but what I keep present now is nothing compared to what was contained in “The Tin” and “The Armament” and “The Bag of Infinite Improbability” and “The Experiment” and “The Keys” and…yeah, see…I’m overwhelmed just recounting.

But the point is that I’m not at all who/what I was when everything was EVERYTHING and everything was HUGE and now Douglas Adams is dead and he’s not coming back (and I weep as I wept) and my truth is bombarded by anecdotes and allegories from my friends (reliable) and my family (indeterminate) and I don’t know what the fuck to make of it and so I play my truth like a locust watching the ants come and go, hoping that somewhere in my etudes I’ve strung up a Michelangelo.

But I’m too young. I’m too old. I wear my pants long and drown in the red and the brown seaweed like a Dutch brat unfit for the crown and its all such murderous mercy.

Mercury.

Goddamn, I’m confused. But I’m hopeful. I’m yearning. I’m overcome by the tremble of Torn Hawk and his tenor tones that touch the tongue that lapped long lost love off the ceiling between the cracks of obtuse intent and swallowed them like the perfect purpose.

Let’s Cry and Do Pushups at the Same Time Tracklist:

01. I’m Flexible
02. She Happens
03. Afterprom
04. Return To The Pec Deck
05. Acceptance Speech
06. Because Of M.A.S.K.
07. Under Wolf Rule
08. There Was A Time



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