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the beast's understanding of death

by ænorex

supported by
Thomas Nichols
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12212012
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Lydia Peever
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CL (ænorex)
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frompage2screen
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1.
oda sa wala 10:36
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i’ve been petty much alone it’s not too bad i don’t hate my life it’s just that loneliness can do things to people why is everything wiped away? why is everything wiped away? scrubbed so clean you’d never know that it existed
2.
the beast's understanding of death 08:49
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have you ever heard of those they call the undead? the undead? nothing except the smell of rotten meat nothing except the smell of rotten meat well they remind me of blood well they remind me of nothing except the smell of blood well he dissected and dismembered the body and removed every last bit of flesh and then…really this part is superb he prepared the flesh in any number of ways marinated stuffed pickled smoked oh, you do have to admire the man’s ingenuity sure i killed her and you know why it doesn’t destroy me? because she was a girl who walked around saying to the whole world, “kill me” “please, somebody kill me” she was so trusting so naive “please, somebody kill me” it’s blood kill it it’s blood kill it, i’m gonna kill it he’s got a gun the smell of rotten meat it will end i assure you in terror it smells so terrible and it does have a peculiar odor like carrion? like carrion? yes nothing except the smell of rotten meat nothing except the smell of rotten meat it smells so terrible and it does have a peculiar odor like carrion? yes yes, just like carrion it smells so terrible and it does have a peculiar odor, doesn’t it? like carrion? yes like carrion? yes, just like carrion i turned to the glass again i turned to the glass again i could see him over my shoulder it’s not a pretty sight those bones that grinning skull they fascinate me they fascinate me i turned to the glass again i could see him over my shoulder it’s not a pretty sight i turned to the glass again i could see him over my shoulder but there was no reflection of him in the mirror it was blank he’s literally been ripped apart it’s not a pretty sight it felt like wet hands it felt like wet hands on my shoulders it felt like wet hands on my shoulders, on my throat well they remind me of blood they remind me of blood blood kill it kill it he’s literally been ripped apart kill it he’s literally been ripped apart kill it i’m gonna kill it sure i killed her and you know why it doesn’t destroy me? because she was a girl who walked around saying to the whole world, “kill me” “please, somebody kill me” she was so trusting so naive nobody has a right to be that defenseless it’s blood he’s got the gun he’s got the gun it will end i assure you in terror and fear those bones that grinning skull they fascinate me
3.
shared experience is suicide 13:20
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whosoever says that humanity shares anything except the fragility of our biology is anathema to true progress whosoever says that human beings are capable of anything other than blind, masochistic consumption and the grotesque recitation of parts written for them by their true masters is my enemy whosoever claims that humans are aware of and want to do the so-called “right thing” for the betterment of the species shares the same delusional spirit of every terrorist, war criminal, and mass murderer before them and whosoever claims that man is a “social animal” that needs a “shared experience” in order to grow is a coward afraid of their own shadow and independent thought any time a million readers believe a story its true you’ve all heard the old saying believe in a thing enough and it’ll come true just suppose many people came to believe in something something that couldn’t possibly be real any time a million readers believe a story its true just suppose many people came to believe in something something that couldn’t possibly be real such as an artificial monster and they believe in that ghost here in this laboratory is the necessary material for a monster and out there are all those people believing in such a fantastic monster a substance that the belief of millions gave an unreal life to a substance that the belief of millions gave an unreal life to in a great vat lies a strange caricature of humanity it has a head arms legs a strange caricature of humanity alter disable destroy in a great vat lies a strange caricature of humanity it has a head arms legs a body all of them fashioned of a pale substance like gelatin a strange caricature of humanity day by day, life stirs more strongly in this grotesque creation some day it may breathe walk alter disable destroy unwelcome abnormal unwelcome abnormal abomination an abomination a human monstrosity who was the veritable embodiment of a nightmare any time a million readers believe a story its true and they believe in that ghost the veritable embodiment of a nightmare and whosoever claims that man is a “social animal” that needs a “shared experience” in order to grow is not only a coward afraid of their own shadow and independent thought, but the most dangerous and self-destructive organism that will stop at nothing to drag as many other spineless vermin into their own self-made hell with them
4.
the animal's understanding of nothingness 10:54
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5.
in their wake 15:14
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but don’t you see what’s happening to us here? something evil is pursuing us what am i doing in a cemetery? what am i doing in a cemetery? but don’t you see what’s happening? something evil is pursuing us something evil is pursuing us to destroy us i’m tired i tell ya’ i’m too tired to sleep i’m tired i tell ya’ too tired to eat, i’m too tired to sleep i am so tired and i want to die i want to die i am so tired and i want to die i want to die i want to die no i remember now it’s a dream all this is just a dream just a dream just a dream you can wake up out of a dream i will wake up i’ve got to wake up wake up, wake up i’ve got to wake up oh no i remember now it’s a dream all this is just a dream just a dream just a dream you can wake up out of a dream i will wake up why…can’t i wake up? it’s just a dream a dream always at this moment i’ve been able to wake up i’ve got to wake up, i’ve got to wake up i’m not dreaming i’ll never wake up out of this dream i’m dead grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum some natures it startles some it stupefies to one it comes like the stroke of an arrow stinging all the sensibilities to a keener life to another as the blow of a bludgeon, which in crushing benumbs grief is an artist
6.
there is nothing after this 13:10
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a chill crept through my bones it wasn’t cold it was fear unreasoning and abysmal fear have you ever experienced the terrifying thought that someday you might, by some accident, be abandoned? you might, by some accident, be buried alive abandoned given up as dead? have you thought about death lately? not the fact that it’s inevitable that it must come to all of us someday but rather how it will come dead abandoned and buried buried alive dead abandoned given up as dead and buried dead buried alive and buried abandoned given up as dead and you think that is the end? of course it’s the end of mortal life have you thought about death lately? not the fact that it’s inevitable that it must come to all of us someday but rather how it will come do you think of it as asleep, and awake? of a sudden transition from one state of being to another? or to a state of non-being? there’s nothing left of it it’s gone as if it had never existed it’s that that frightens me i can’t stand much more of this i can’t i can’t stand much more of this i can’t if i don’t find someone who really cares about me who’ll treat me like a normal human being it’s driving me mad i must tell someone i’m hunted traveling by night not daring to risk showing myself and all of the time haunted by this this face you see here waking up at night to see it staring at me i tell you it’s driving me insane if you have ever ridden a nightmare you know what a hellish mount it can make it carries you, unwillingly, beyond anguish and terror insane i tell you all of this horror these scenes of cruelty they weaken my faith in my fellow man anybody out there? not a soul i’m just feeling too depressed you’re not depressed you’re haunted is it true that, when you are very close to death, the dead are really able to reach out to protect you? it all ended ended almost before it began do you realize what its like lying here helpless completely isolated as if i were all alone in the world or… isn’t there someone i can talk to it means death

credits

released October 30, 2023

-ænorex is CL
-the beast’s understanding of death was written, performed, recorded and mixed between August, 2022-October, 2023
-all photography/art by CL

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ænorex Ottawa, Ontario

ænorex, hailing from the Ontario, Canada, emerged in 2020 as a unique force in the realm of dark rock music. The instrumental, solo project's fusion of somber, atmospheric melodies, samples and symphonic elements paints a vivid sonic landscape that captures the essence of anger, sorrow, beauty, and mystery. ... more

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