Pieces of My Heart, Part Three: Love

And then I was standing in the rain. Not a single breeze disturbed the air of the afternoon, so the raindrops fell perfectly perpendicular to the ground. I was standing in a cemetery, and a congregation of people dressed in black were gathered 50 yards away.

I walked across the graveyard, careful not to step on any of the tombstones for some reason. The rain fell right through me, and the grass beneath me showed no signs of pressure being put upon it. As far as the living world was concerned, I no longer had any effect on this place or the people inhabiting it. Then why am I here still?

The distance between myself and the funeral was halved from where I had originated, and I could now make out the ceremony clearly through the downpour. A coffin was suspended in a pulley system over an open grave, with an American flag draped over it like a tablecloth. To the right were seven police officers from the force standing at attention. They held rifles in their hands, with the butt of the weapons resting on the wet grass. Jared was the officer standing closest to me, and I could see the pain in his eyes.

To the left, a crowd of about 70 people stood watching. Most of them were just folks from the police force; a few of them I had only met a few times. The rest of them were family and friends. Their clothes clung to their damp skin like lovers embracing. My mother and father were nearest to me. My mom had her head on my dad’s shoulder, and he held her close with his left arm as she silently cried into his shoulder. Her hair was a very pale brown, and had been for many years since she refused to dye it. A strand of it held tight to her wet cheeks, so my father took his index finger and dragged the hair out of her face. My father’s hair had once been a very light blonde, but his age had caught up with him and stolen the life from his follicles. He was a mess, with stray hairs all over his head sticking up at angles that seemed to defy physics. His face had seemed to have aged ten years, with two deeps pockets of sleep below his irritated eyes. I had never seen my father cry before. It broke my heart.

To their right stood Aurora and Amy. Aurora had a black veil draped over her face, and it masked her emotions from the world. She had her hands on Amy’s shoulders, who was standing directly in front of her. The poor girl was trembling from head to toe, with sadness radiating from her like heat from a fireplace in a mountain-top cabin. Aurora held her tight, and the two of them together created the saddest scene imaginable. Slowly, I made my way in front of them, my eyes fixated on Aurora. Once I was a few inches from her, I could see into the veil. Her eyes were focused on the priest, who was standing on a podium overlooking the open grave. He began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have come here today to mourn the passing of Adam Foley. His life was tragically taken from us one week ago. We are here not to dwell on the present, which is most certainly full of heartbreak and sadness. No, we are here to look back on the life of Adam, who touched so many lives with his kindness. From the time when he was a little boy, Adam had always wanted to grow up to help people. At first he wanted to be a doctor, that helped sick children recover from illness. Then he was to be a fireman, so he could rescue people and animals from danger. By the time he graduated from high school, he had decided to spend his life serving as a police officer, protecting friends and strangers alike. Everyone who knew him knows that he didn’t have an ounce of hatred in his entire body. He had the biggest heart around, and was always willing to break off a little piece of it and give it to anyone he encountered. But the two biggest pieces of his heart, the ones he had been waiting his entire life to give away, belong to his beautiful wife and daughter, Aurora and Amy. Nothing was more important to him then these two, and I can guarantee he is looking down on them right now with a smile on his face. That’s the type of person Adam was; always a smile on his face. The world needs more people like that in it, not less. He may be gone, but each and every one of you here still has a piece of his heart inside of your own right now. Take comfort in that, and let us also take comfort in the fact that his soul is with God now. Please, take a few moments in prayer, as we lower the casket.”

An elderly man steps forward from the crowd, and starts to turn the crank on the pulley system to lower the coffin into the open grave. Jared shouts out the commands, and the seven officers point their rifles to the heavens, and ring out the salute. Amy flinches at the crack of each gunshot as she watches my body enter its final resting place. A dull thud resounds in the air as the casket touches the bottom of the grave. Members of the funeral home begin to pile dirt upon the coffin. Shovel-full after shovel-full of dirt accumulates atop the container, and soon it is no longer visible. After a few minutes, the grave is full. Four men carry the tombstone, and place it upon the grave, making sure it is stable. The priest raises his hands in the air to gain the congregation’s attention, and says, “The ceremony has come to a conclusion. Thank you all for attending. May Adam rest in peace.”

The people in attendance pay their respects at my grave, say their goodbyes to one another, and leave the cemetery. I stood transfixed in the same spot, in awe of everything occurring. Before long, only my parents remained with Aurora and Amy. The four of them stood together, with their arms around one another, eyes closed, praying. When they had finished, Aurora turned to my parents and said, “Could you please take Amy with you to the memorial? I just need a few more minutes. I’ll be right behind you.” “Of course,” said my father. He took Amy’s hand, and the three of them traversed the hallowed grounds to their vehicle. It was just Aurora and I left in the rain.

I stood behind her, afraid to look into her eyes and see the suffering. I could hear her crying softly as she stared at my final resting place. And then she started to talk.

“Adam…I still can’t believe you’re actually gone. If you can hear me right now, wherever you are, there is something I want to tell you. You once told me that I would always have a piece of your heart to keep for myself. But I gave you my whole heart, and I need you to know that you’ll always have it. I don’t need it, knowing it’s safe with you. I love you.”

Aurora pressed her hand to the surface of the tombstone, held it there for a few seconds, and then pulled it away. I finally gained the courage to step forward and look into her eyes. I circled around her right side, until she was right in front of me. The sadness in her eyes pierced my soul, but there was something else there. Something that I saw in her every time I looked into her eyes when I was alive. I could see the love in them. And then she smiled. I turned around to look at the tombstone. It was shaped like an arch, with an inscription on it that read:

ADAM FOLEY

1983-2009

BELOVED SON, HUSBAND, AND FATHER

LOVE KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES, NOT EVEN IN DEATH

I felt the heavy hands of death lift from my shoulders, and then everything was perfect. I turned to look at Aurora one last time. She was smiling still. Perhaps she could feel that I was finally at peace. All the good feelings I had ever felt in life rushed through my body at once. My hands turned transparent directly in front of my eyes, and I felt myself leaving this world forever.

And then everything went black…

Pieces of My Heart, Part Two: Forever

And then I was standing by the front door of my home, looking outside through the panes of glass on either side of the door. My partner on the police force, Jared Hill, was getting out of his police cruiser, dressed in uniform still. His eyes were red and swollen, like he had been crying. He stood by the car for a few moments, just staring at the front door, letting the wind toss around his curly red hair.

And then he walked up the paved walkway to the front door. Standing rigidly on the doormat, he hesitated to ring the doorbell. His finger hovered in the air a few centimeters from the button, seemingly suspended in time. After what seemed like ages, Jared’s finger finally traversed those last few centimeters of open air and rang the doorbell. He withdrew his hand quickly, as if he thought the button would bite off his finger for bringing this news to this doorstep.

And then I heard something stir upstairs. Jared rang the doorbell again, and the bedroom door quietly opened. My gorgeous wife stepped out into the hallway, and began making her way down the stairs. She was dressed in her nightgown, obviously just disturbed from sleep. Her long black hair was a mess, like she had just put her head into a wind turbine. Her bed-head and dazed look brought forth images of Edward Scissorhands. Despite her unkempt hair, she looked as beautiful as ever. She walked towards the front door, and I stepped out of the way, even though I knew she would go right through me. She yawned into her soft hand, and opened the door. Her eyes lit up with surprise upon seeing Jared.

“Jared, what are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.”

“I’m sorry to wake you Aurora, but…there’s been an accident.”

All of the life vanished from Aurora’s face. Her skin was as pale as the moon. Even her vibrant blue eyes, illuminated by the gentle touch of the porch light, dimmed when those words left Jared’s lips. He continued on.

“On his way here from the station, Adam’s car swerved off the highway into a tree. The paramedics arrived on the scene after only a few minutes, but…they were too late to save him. I’m so sorry, Aurora.”

Aurora’s lip quivered, and then she burst into tears. Her knees quaked beneath her, and she fell. Jared darted through the door and caught Aurora before she hit the tile. She put her arms around Jared, and cried into his shoulder. Jared closed his eyes as tears started to trickle down his own face. He whispered words of assurance into her ear such as, “It’s going to be OK,” even though he knew it was not.

For awhile, they just cried. I want to shout, “I’m right here!” to stop their suffering. But they can’t hear me anymore. I fall to my knees next to them and stretch out my arms to comfort them both. My limbs pass through them, just as before. I try, and I try, and I try, but still they have no idea of my presence. If I could just tell them one last time how much they mean to me…if I could just wrap my arms around them both for a few seconds…everything would be at peace. Instead, I sit here as an unseen spectator to their despair.

After many minutes of crying, they finally regain some sense of control. Jared lets go of Aurora and helps her to her feet. And then he says, “I have to get back to the station. I just wanted to come here myself to tell you what happened. If you need anything Aurora, anything at all, just call me. We’ll help each other through this. I’ll call you in the morning to check up on you.”

“Thank you, Jared. I’ll be alright. Stay safe.”

Jared stood there, staring at Aurora, and then turned to leave. Aurora shut the door behind him, turned her back to it, and then fell to the floor again. She propped her arms onto her knees, and then buried her face into her arms and cried. Her whispered sobs didn’t carry much further than ten feet, but they rocked my being to the very core. She seemed so helpless, sitting there. If she feels anything like I do right now, she knows that a part of her is gone, and that piece of her will be empty forever.

I sit down beside her, and get as close to her body as I can without passing through it. I lean my head to the side as if I were going to rest it on her shoulder, and I cry with her. And even though I know she will not hear me, I start to talk to her.

“Aurora, I love you so much. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have been driving knowing how exhausted I was. I made a stupid mistake, and I hope you can forgive me. You’re my everything, and I’ll be with you forever, OK? Please babe, hear me. Just hear me. Seeing your face in the morning was my favorite part of every day. No matter how awful the day was, everything stopped hurting when I looked in your eyes. If only I could tell you how much I love you. Please babe…hear me.”

But she continued crying, oblivious to the fact that I was right here with her. Her breathing started to return to normal, and she lifted her head from her arms. Her entire face was soaked with her tears, and the light from the moon made her glimmer. Even drenched in tears, she was beautiful. She grabbed the bottom of her nightgown and wiped her face with it. She let out a soft whimper, which is what she always did when she was finished crying. I had only seen her cry on two other occasions. One was on our wedding day, and the other was when her father passed away.

Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her balance wavered for a moment, but she regained her composure. Then she walked up the stairs, but instead of walking into her room, she turned left down the hallway, and went into Amy’s room. I followed her in.

Amy was sound asleep, laying under the covers. Her blanket had a dozen different horses all over it. She loved horses. I promised her that when we had the money, I would buy her a horse that she could have all to herself. Just one of the many promises that went unfulfilled.

She has long black hair and blue eyes, just like her mother. She is smirking for some reason. She must be having a really good dream. How heartbreaking that she has to return to reality to the news that her father is dead. If only I could save her from that, I would. Only seven years old, and already she has to deal with the loss of a parent. I let her down. Aurora approached the bed, and sat down on the edge. She grabbed some of Amy’s hair, and ran her fingers through it. And then she leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead, and said delicately, “Amy, wake up. I have to tell you something.”

Amy scrunched up her face in annoyance, and turned onto her back. Her eyelids peeled back a tiny bit, just enough to see her mother’s face. After a deep inhale/exhale, Amy said to her mother, “What is it, mommy?”

“Honey, I’ve got some bad news. Daddy…daddy isn’t going to be coming home.”

“How come? Will he be back soon?”

“No, Amy. His car crashed, and the doctors weren’t able to save him. He’s…gone.” “Mommy…do you mean daddy is dead?”

Such a blunt response from such a little girl. I’m not sure she is really old enough to understand the severity of those words, but she understands the concept of being dead. It’s when a person goes to sleep and never wakes up. “Yes Amy, that’s…that’s what I mean.”

Aurora’s eyes started to swell up with tears again. The first one emerged from her tear duct, and Amy reached up with her thumb and wiped the tear away. And then she said: “Mommy…will we ever see Dad again?”

I want to shout out to her, “I’m right here Amy, don’t worry. I’ll never leave you!” I would do anything in the world for just a few more seconds with my wife and daughter. I would spend an eternity of damnation if it meant I could come back to this moment in time and put my arms around my daughter one last time. I’d roam the earth forever like this if it meant I could just kiss my wife and tell her I love her. More tears made their way down Aurora’s face; too many for Amy to wipe off with her thumb.

“No…no, we won’t. Dad is gone forever.”

And then everything went black.

It's been awhiiiile.

Since I could, hold my head up hiiiigh.

Nothing like nu metal ballads from my childhood. In all seriousness though, it has been awhile since I used this blog as a creative outlet. Partly out of lack of motivation, partly out of being too preoccupied with schoolwork, and partly out of a severe creative drought. But with summer quickly approaching, I can already see myself with more free time then I can handle. So I figure, what better time then now to get back into writing?

What I have for you today is part one of a three part short story I wrote last year for my senior project. Rereading through this thing was quite an eye-opener, as I found the quality to be less than satisfying. But, I liked the concept enough to heavily edit the story, and now I've come up with the new and improved version. While I'm still not very satisfied with it, I know one or two of you enjoy reading my stuff. And who am I to deprive you of that. So without further ado, this is Pieces of My Heart, Part One: The Crash.

Everything went black.

And then I was standing off the road, looking at the wreck. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel and veered into the forest. The car was unrecognizable, a mangled mess. Why am I not hurt? And why don’t I remember getting out of the car?

I was standing on the edge of the forest, where the gravel turned to grass. The sun had set three hours previously, but the forest still had its glow from the daylight. After a few seconds, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I saw the car.

The vehicle had been compressed to nearly half its original length by the force of impact. The hood looked like tin foil, and the left axel was pushed up into the car at an awkward angle. Debris from the crash was scattered as far as twenty feet, and the front bumper was a tangled mess resting on the ground to the left of the carnage.

I reached into my pocket to grab my cell phone, but my pocket was empty. The phone must fallen out during the accident. I hear a car door slam behind me, and I turn to look. A woman had pulled over to the shoulder of the road and was making her way down the incline, slipping and sliding on the precipitation clinging to blades of grass.. She must have seen the accident. “Hey! It’s alright, I’m OK! I was the only one in the car.”

The woman continued advancing towards the wreck as if she had not heard me. “Thank you for stopping, ma’am. Nobody is hurt. Please, could you call an ambulance?

Again the woman acted as if she did not know I was talking to her. She had not even acknowledged my presence yet. She looked to be about 28 years old, and her frizzy brown hair was fluttering in the brisk breeze in her wake. The look on her face was one of shock, and her movements reflected that. “Excuse me. Miss?”

The girl walked toward me, and continued past me, without missing a step. She approached the car, and circled around to the driver’s side. Then a sharp gasp, and the woman said, “Sir! Can you hear me!? Please, say something…sir!? Oh no…”

Who could she possibly be talking to? I was alone in the car.

I try to look inside the vehicle from the passenger side, but shrapnel from the roof of the car impairs my view. So I circle around the tree to the driver’s side and the panicked woman. I ask her, “Miss, who are you talking to? There isn’t anyone in the car, I was the driver. Excuse me.” I reach out to touch the woman on the shoulder, but then I see who she’s talking to.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, brutalized and bloodied, is me. My face is plastered with blood, but there is no doubt that it is me. My eyes are empty, and they stare off into nothing. A thin piece of metal is protruding from my abdomen, and the wound oozes blood onto my lap. Nearly submerged in a pool of blood on my lap, is the picture of my little girl that was hanging from the rearview mirror. The picture is stained red, and my daughter’s face is the only fragment of the photo not obstructed by my blood. Her kind eyes seem to look right through me. For a few moments, I am overwhelmed by fear. I stare deep into the picture and cry, until finally the blood overtakes her, and my angel’s face sinks into the pool of death.

This cannot be happening. I turn to the woman, and reach out to touch her face. My hand moves forward, but it passes right through her. Desperately I swipe at her body, but all of the strikes pierce the seemingly solid mass, leaving no signs of disturbance. And so I scream, “HELLO!!! PLEASE, HEAR ME!!! AM I DEAD!!! Am I dead…?” My attempts at getting her attention fail, and she runs frantically back up the incline to her car.

So here I stand, with tears streaming down my face and the wind howling. But I can’t feel it. I’ll never be able to feel anything again. Am I dead? Am I a ghost? What is it I am supposed to do now…

The woman is standing back on the shoulder of the road, with a cell phone pressed against her ear and her other hand at her hip. She looks scared. She is the first one to know of my death. A random stranger.

For years, I’ve always wondered to myself how people I know would react when they found out the news that I had died. I suppose I am just curious as to how important I am in their lives. Would they break down and cry? Would they say everything they wanted to tell me when I was still alive? Would they even care? People do not cry when they read in the papers about a man murdering his wife when he found out she was cheating. People do not cry when they find out that a teenager hundreds of miles away drove her car off of a bridge. People cry when death is personal. When a friend commits suicide, then people cry. When a family member dies of old age, or has their life taken from them, then people cry. You can tell how much someone cared about another person by the way they react to the news of their death. So now I find myself wondering…how will people react to the news of my death?

And then everything went black.

2009: Music

I used to do this on myspace (does anybody use that shit anymore?), but I figured since I have a legit blog now that I would do it here. I love the shit out of music, and every year I go over everything I listened to that was released this year and review it. But this year, I was not able to listen to as much new stuff as previous years. 2009 was more about revisiting/discovering older artists. So for this year, I'm going to go more in depth with each album, rather than just giving it a score.


AFI - Crash Love, 5/10

This is hard for me. I tried so hard to love this record, but it's just not possible to love something so devoid of emotion and boring from a band that has put out some of my favorite albums of all time. Every song here is completely forgettable radio rock, with the exception of the intro track, "Torch Song". I do like this song a fair bit, as it has some rad guitarwork and a catchy chorus, but it's all downhill from this song. "Darling I Want to Destroy You" is hands down the worst song AFI has ever written. I could spend an entire post tearing this album a new asshole, but I'll leave it at this: I still love you AFI, but this is an abortion of an album by your standards.

Andrew Jackson Jihad - Can't Maintain, 8/10

Musically superior, lyrically inferior about sums it up. The arrangements are more complex and interesting than previously, but the lyrics aren't nearly as clever and honest as some of their earlier stuff. Still my favorite folk punk band, though.

Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion, 7/10

I don't get the hype. Catchy art-pop type stuff that just kind of drags on at times. Still pretty solid, and some of the arrangements here are genius, but I just can't get into it as much as I'd hoped I would.

Banner Pilot - Collapser, 8/10

These guys are no Dillinger Four, but they do a great job of trying to be. After hearing lots of good things, I finally checked this album out, and was pleasantly suprised. Solid stuff.

Between The Buried and Me - The Great Misdirect, 8.5/10

I knew they wouldn't be able to top Colors. It's just too good. Instead of starting where Colors left off, this album abandons the schizoprenic stylistic shifts and goes for a more cohesive sound. The songs are long, but the passages flow seamlessy from brutal death metal to funky space-rock to acoustic diversions. The record is strange, to say the least, but it never loses steam.

Brand New - Daisy, 7.5/10

Not exactly what I had hoped for after The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me, but there are some good jams on this record. "Vices" is nothing like the rest of the album, but its one of my favorites. Other highlights are "You Stole" and "Gasoline". Overall though, the album doesn't keep my attention very well. I don't see myself listening to this very often, but I like it.

Broadway Calls - Good Views, Bad News, 8.5/10

It blows my mind that Broadway Calls isn't the biggest pop-punk band in the world. Nobody in the genre can touch them. This was one of my most anticipated this year, and it didn't disappoint. "Tonight's Alive" and "To The Sheets" quickly became two of my favorite songs from them, and the record has a better flow than their S/T. If you don't like this album, you don't like fun.

Cattle Decapitation - The Harvest Floor, 8.5/10

Best CatDecap record yet. This album continues to grind my face off every time I listen to it. The vocals sound pretty gnarly on this one, and I'm not sure if I'm a fan of it or not. The dude doesn't even sound human most of the time. The riffs are heavy as shit and the drumming complements them nicely. My vote for best grind record of '09, although I listened to very little of it this year.

Converge - Axe to Fall, 9.5/10

Album of the year right here. This album kills it in every way. Ballou's riffs on here are heavy as balls, and he even throws in some shredding here and there. Koller's drumming has reached a new peak, and he has once again proven to me why he is my favorite drummer. I don't really have an ear for bass, but Newton does a good job complementing Ballou. Bannon's vocals haven't changed much from No Heroes, but who's complaining? The dude has some of the gnarliest screams/shouts in extreme music, and this album is no exception. The title track is the highlight for me, offering the best riff of the album, as well as one hell of a breakdown. Go out and buy this shit right now.

Darkest Hour - The Eternal Return, 8/10

Another of my most anticipated releases this year, but this one didn't live up to expectations. Deliver Us is one of my all-time favorites, and I knew they couldn't repeat it without Kris Norris. However, I was optimistic about it. This album is a return to roots for DH, sounding very similar to 2003's Hiddens Hands of a Sadist Nation, but with more guitar solos. The atmosphere and tempo changes are mostly gone, producing a record that shreds really hard, but doesn't have much lasting value.

Dead Swans - Sleepwalkers, 8/10

Solid hardcore from the UK. These guys really won me over when I saw them open for Comeback Kid. Fast and aggressive, while still showcasing some melody. My favorite kind of hardcore. One of the many great records that bridge 9 put out this year.

Dethklok - The Dethalbum II, 8.5/10

Hahahaha. Dethklok. I don't give a shit, I love listening to these songs. Some people don't understand the appeal, but it's just awesome metal. Nothing special, and no prog wankery, just good ol' fashioned metal with a comical take on everything. I know it's a parody, but it does such a good job of making fun of metal that in the process it actually is really good metal.

Every Time I Die - New Junk Aesthetic, 7.5/10

Better than The Big Dirty? Yeah. Although the first half of the record is infinitely better than the second half. It loses steam around track 6 or 7, not really sure. I was only able to listen to this once when it was streaming on their myspace, but I remember thinking it was pretty rad.

Green Day - 21st Century Breakdown, 1/10

Worst album of the year. Holy fuck, I can't even believe how badly this sucks. Every song is terrible. Every. Single. Song. And this is coming from a fan of American Idiot. Way to put out some of the most stale, generic radio rock shit I've heard in a long time Green Day.

Mastodon - Crack The Skye, 5.5/10

Booooooooring. I want Mastodon to go back to writing heavy-ass metal that rocks your fucking face off. This prog-metal wankery is a snoozefest. The album has it's moments, but you have to sit through too much garbage to get to them.

Mother of Mercy - III, 7.5/10

Not bad. Not exactly the most innovative group in hardcore, but I like their energy and "Fuck You" attitude. Last track on the record is the highlight for me.

Municipal Waste - Massive Aggressive, 8/10

MUNICIPAL WASTE IS GONNA FUCK YOU UP? Well, not exactly. They bring the thrash, but the party...not so much. Or not as much, I should say. This is definitely a more mature MW that is trying to progress their sound while still sticking to their roots. And for the most part, they succeed. Awesome record, but it's no Hazardous Mutation.

Polar Bear Club - Chasing Hamburg, 8.5/10

Bridge 9 fucking killed it this year. The songs are more straight-forward and shorter then their full-length debut, but it's catchy as fuck and some of the best melodic hardcore around right now. Man, I love Polar Bear Club.

Propagandhi - Supporting Caste, 9.5/10

If you had asked me just a few months ago, I would have told you this was the album of the year. Propagandhi have outdone themselves once again by putting out what may be their magnum opus. From start to finish, every song is flawless. Sometimes hardcore, sometimes metal, sometimes punk, but always unforgettable.

Ruiner - Hell Is Empty, 9/10

Prepare to Be Let Down is one of my all-time favorite hardcore releases, and this one doesn't disappoint. Rob Sullivan is a depressing mother fucker on this disc, and I love it. The music is less melodic, with a heavier sound and a much darker feel to the record, but every track rules. Hardcore album of the year? I think so.

Thursday - Common Existence, 9/10

The follow-up to 2006's A City By The Light Divided, this album does everything right. The musicianship and song-writing on this record surpasses everything the band has done before. While not packing the emotional punch that their first three records have, this album proves that Thursday still have it in them. Every track rules, except for "Friends In the Armed Forces". But if you skip that song every time, this album is nearly perfect.

Tombs - Winter Hours, 8/10

Awesome doom metal that rocks the shit out of everything. The guitar tone punches you in the nuts and takes you out to lunch (stole this line from the worst review I've ever read. It was Whitechapel). These guys have a promising future ahead of them, and just might be my favorite new find of '09.

Wolves In The Throne Room - Black Cascade, 8.5/10

WITTR have proved once again why they're the best band in black metal right now. Fuck people knocking them for all the hipster hype. The atmospheric passages here are the best yet, and the straight-ahead moments and just as abrasive and grim as always. Best black metal album of the year, by default, since it's the only one I listened to that came out in '09.

NaNoWriMo

So, FYI, November is National Novel Writing Month. If you're unfamiliar with the event, I suggest you read this. http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/whatisnano

Even though I'm busy with school and other various things, I've decided I'm going to take part in it. Which means all of the time I spend writing will be concentrated on the novel. What that means for you is that this will be my only post this month. I know some of you must be heartbroken, but do not fret over it. The four weeks and two days between now and December 1st will go by painstakingly slow for all of you I'm sure, but life goes on. As for me, I'm looking forward to writing up an extremely rough and most likely incoherent novel over the next few weeks, but hopefully after some editing and exstensions it can become something that doesn't suck.

If you want to know how things are coming along, click the link below. It will have an updated word count, as well as a very general synopsis of the novel. I still am not sure what I'm going to do with this story, hence the very broad plot summary. Maybe I can take it somewhere interesting, or maybe it ends up being a giant pile of shit. Either way, it will be good experience for me, and I look forward to doing it. And with that, I bid you farewell. Have fun with the shitty weather and over-eating that November provides.

http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/559024r

PS: No-Shave November!!!