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i'd rather forget

by Treehouses

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  • i'd rather forget Cassette Tape
    Cassette + Digital Album

    the 'i'd rather forget' album on cassette tape

    translucent green /25
    green blue swirl /25

    j cards edited to reflect our feelings about our old record labels

    Limited to 50 copies only.

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1.
introduction 01:45
quietly we stand, watching, waiting, for something (a ghost or a plan, wherever, if anywhere)
2.
your face 04:02
how many people can we remember how many faces can i register in my retina before i forget one 828 days ago i met someone saw someone saw her her face is in my head every second of ever day every night before i go to sleep every morning when my eyes first taste the light she is there not one word has been spoken between us but i will never forget her face her lips, her eyes i wonder if she remembers mine between now and then i have met 1473 people each of their faces i remember but not as well as i remember hers each of their faces i instantly scan against hers in my mind in case she has changed even slightly but it's never her people's faces blur like droplets as i pass looking but not seeing the images i wonder how many people she has met i wonder if she still has room for my face or if she ever did or if she ever did
3.
i sometimes feel like the days are bleeding into one another like when i try to breathe all i really inhale is smoke and it's disappearing into someone else's mouth when i walk the beach at night and see the ocean it's like i'm looking upon an old friend for the first time there's a sense of knowing, and a sense of unknowing a sense of being surrounded and being alone, both at the same time not unlike the feeling i get when you leave me, or when i see your face again because you alone, can destroy me just fine if there's a world where i should be with you this is not the one if there's a time where you and i would work this is not the one it isn't worth knowing life without the feeling you give me, when you want to there are only three people i truly trust in this world, and two of them are you i used to think being with you was all i'd ever want, all i ever wanted and that there was no way this could happen but i find myself wondering why i get up everyday and why you're still there beside me i can still hear the ringing in my ears your face is burned in to the back of my eyelids even if i wanted to forget you i couldn't i use to think i could read your mind that i could see you for who you really are, and you could see me but now i know that i was losing my mind, and that i still am and there's nothing you or i could do, can do, to change that or anything else that happened
4.
smoke 01:51
her breath flickers in the wind an icy chill frosting the corners of her eyes unsettled and alone awaiting the touch that will never come asking herself with a passion he could never match even if he wanted to the only thing he seems to dedicate himself to these days is the suppression of feelings that might open him up to her this makes no sense her heart spends more time on her sleeve than it does in her chest his on the other hand hasn't seen the light of day in years he approaches his shoes are worn through the soles have holes he'll never fix she asks him why one day he considers his response darkly biting chipped nails and nursing a cigarette they ponder for a moment, lost in the image of the dancing smoke flittering through the wind as he maneuvers a cigarette he was never good at answering hard questions "i never really thought about it" he responds, "why, does it bother you?" she considers for a moment, wondering if now is a good time "yes, a lot about you does." he glances quickly downwards, avoiding her gaze praying the following conversation will evaporate like the smoke seeping into the air "do you love me?" she asks he pauses "i think we both know the answer" his words are lost in the chasm of his throat his eyes giving way to the flood of emotion he's been running from for years "you've wasted my life, why didn't you tell me?" her voice breaks it's over
5.
dopamine 04:13
there's a difference between following your dreams and chasing them i've spent countless night sitting alone staring at fleeting fractures spiraling hopelessly downwards dripping through pores in the walls seeping into our subconscious i hear knocking and scratching your spotless mind won't rest focus is impossible if words could blur mine would be straight lines. running concurrently around your arms, pressing and binding her name lingers like smoke on the tip of my tongue my lips are turning black from the addiction trying desperately to escape i've covered up the scars she gave me we get high to chase our dreams send me back to sleep give me rest i need release don't let me wake my teeth won't fall out by themselves i spend my days fluctuating between a restless indifference and a burning distraction eating at the perfection of the image i have of you in my mind what if we cant stop days turn to nights, weeks turn to months i lasted 24 days last time, 4 more than your best i'm sorry i didn't understand, how could i i'm looking for answers in your broken promises with each attempt to pick up the pieces leads to another cut finger and another disappointed excuse i guess time's a language i never learned to speak
6.
bear chest 02:59
(you're begging for meaning where answers will never satisfy your curiosity but if you're desperate, i'll tell you) her tattoos tell stories i couldn't imagine she's grown to crave that reaction each line of ink a scar of memories she won't forget every name inked in her skin holds another regret a lifetime isn't long enough to black out her past and i thought she'd found peace at last but i'm not a puzzle she could solve as the pieces on her arms evolve i see lost words and locked up stories does she regret those words on her knuckles did they hurt? they all fucking hurt the clock on her back is for her dad the day she found out i was the first person she told she cried in my arms for hours, her tears staining my skin with the memory just the same as hers she doesn't need it to remember him, she always will she has it to make sure others know the man he was i've covered up the scars she gave me but they'll be on my skin for life they'll never truly leave me you're begging for meaning where answers will never satisfy your curiosity but if you're desperate, i'll tell you a bear on the chest is a symbol of lost love regret and freedom, breaking from tradition bare chested we consider a crown, on the ribs more pain than it's worth it reminds me not to get attached to anyone not to people at least her scars will never leave me her tears will be on my skin for life
7.
i’d made plans to head out of town. sometimes i would give myself a reason to drive up north, claiming my old friends wanted to catch up or had something for me to collect. i think everyone knew i just wanted time to myself, to get away from the every day. and so i would be up and gone in the early morning, sun brushing over the hills as Kristian Matsson hummed through the speakers of my Ford. it was a drive that could take almost all day if i wanted it to, and i made sure of it. it was time for me to think, and process everything that i couldn’t while tuning out the constant buzz of inner city life, nine to five, never enough sleep or never enough of anything. seven months earlier, my youngest brother had gotten sick. it wasn’t so bad, he was doing okay, we all said. perhaps I knew exactly what his future held, and I had made my decision of where to place myself in that future. it was exhausting. i was exhausted. mid-way through the afternoon, i stopped halfway down a side-road leading to a hill lookout. i parked, and sat on a wooden log to read, losing track of time as i gave myself in to imagination, and a world that wasn’t mine to fix. only when a drop of water fell directly onto the page before my eyes did i realise it was raining. distant rumbling and a glance to the west told me that, as it so often was, a storm was on the way. i packed my things, climbed into the car, and drove. there is something terribly comforting about driving in steady rain. the windscreen wipers beat in time to a slower song, and the fuzziness of passing car headlights is soft and reassuring. i am isolated, by the waning light and the rain outside. i am safely in my car, driving carefully but consistently. the rain beats harder and i put on a faster song, flicking the wiper speed up. i glance to my phone, placed on the passenger seat beside me. i’d made plans to head of town. torrential rain transitions into hail, as i drive through the dark. the road is barely visible before me, as my phone begins to ring. it is my mother. i am not surprised by the call. perhaps I was expecting it. but the response is still profound; crushing and suffocating. i answer on the final ring. my brother died half an hour ago, in St John of God Hospital, Subiaco. he was sixteen. i think it must have been the absence of wind that woke me. as if it had stopped with a shudder, shaking the car one last time, to leave a vacuum in its place, completely lacking of sound. with my breath smoking before me, i pushed the car door open, boots crunching the frosted ground, like teeth into a frozen icy-pole. i've always hated that feeling, but on that day i heard it, i felt it beneath my feet, and it was nothing to me. i wanted to speak aloud for the first time since i left home yesterday morning, to provide some profound comment on the trivial things that bother us. my mouth opened, a rush of cold air filling my lungs. i shook my head, and walked. lost in my thoughts, i jolted to realise i had walked quite some distance, and turned to see the familiar outline of my car behind me. i'd been walking uphill, but assumed that something else was accounting for the heaviness of my legs, and the extra effort each step took. i straightened, and looked up, as if to face the open scene before me, to finally confront every thought I had been denying time. the skies had cleared to a pale blue reminder of the storm. i was warm enough under my thick coat and blanket, but I felt the cold of that consistent, heavy sky. perhaps it was just the stark contrast against the white hail stones, relentless in consuming everything in sight. but the scene struck me, and chilled me down to my bones. my eyes closed, and i fell to my knees. “it’s the thought of you, not knowing where you are now, that troubles me. i know that i will miss you, eventually, but right now… i am only afraid.” i had found my voice again, teeth chattering as I spoke to no one. i sighed deeply, and rose, walking languidly down to the car. i settled in, Revelation Blues playing through the stereo as i took off. i circled around, and drove south.
8.
teary eyes stare blankly searching for lost memories, a past forgotten and neglected the achievements of old pale into insignificance maybe he'll get better tearful goodbyes become routine, standardizing a lift of facts to remember 1. my name is Thomas 2. i have two daughters 3. one of them is married 4. my doctors name is Alfred, he is nice the list begins to grow, bordering on inefficiency as it does why do we fight so hard to maintain a life that is no longer about living, but instead simply about staying alive, almost for the sake of it my mind aches with contemplation on top of the struggling memories blurring a past i wish i could remember but only so i could once again choose to forget it i get flashes feelings more than memories a smell, a touch my wife? was she? she is dead the more i fight the pain the more it hurts any motivation to remember left the day i forgot what i was living for surely i had a plan it all must have been leading to something these days i see nothing but young faces full of a naive hope aspiration i crave and could never imagine they're looking at life from the other side yet to be torn limb from limb by endless challenges and lost causes glassy eyes watch the forgotten for another day i don't remember
9.
these stories leave me numb but if you are the one at least i'll leave you after all you've put me through without an ounce of regret i urge you to forget a sensation of dull heat the countless scars on my feet misfortune ruptures my intention undermining my internal reflection unclear if my perceived truth is real or an unsubstantiated feeling belief won't change my judgement resigning myself to fate compelled only to wait the weight of contemplating my actions reciting to myself a list of rights and wrongs black and white against a moral scorecard who has wronged me and who has been wronged where will i fall when the all knowing judgement rains down among the good and the strong? or the evil and the wrong? i fear the latter i need this count with me we'll find where i fall i'd rather forget
10.
i wish i could draw or paint i wish i could express what i'm trying to say so indescribable my words stifle to find their own meaning and attempt to fit into these molds like square pegs the way i see your face contort misshapen by misunderstanding inexplicable and undeniable i'm not like you i thought i was but i've realised slowly a creeping suspicion of you and i making me doubt my preconceptions when i sit and look out over the ocean i don't see the waves crashing i don't see the deep blue fear any more what i see is a warm home a safe home like i never had like i've never seen before i hope you remember that everyone has scars some in our heads and some on our arms i have both we have both we can't let that stop us, we won't i'm not perfect, none of us are we all have scars if i have to spend one more day questioning wondering what the plan is and what i'm doing here then i think i'll go crazier than the voices in my head tell me i am if there was any sense to be made from those vague ramblings and questions of whether or not someone like you exists then i'd like to know because it's not like my life means less without you it's more like my life means nothing without you and i'm more worried about whether i'll find you than whether i'll wake up tomorrow and i think it's all a lie anything i find myself writing late at night should be both immature and badly thought out it's as if someone deliberately forged my own thought process parodying my inability to form coherent thought and sentences i thought you'd be able to see through it but evidently not it's clear to me that my attraction to you is stronger than i once thought my ability to rule you from my mind and my ability to forget you are gone evidently gone it's through this however that i am able to understand something much more important about myself and indeed about you i'm not like you

about

debut album, a collection of songs written over the last few months

credits

released November 16, 2014

recorded/mixed/mastered in our bedrooms and rehearsal space by ethan reed

tim said the words (mostly)
ethan played guitar and bass
oly played drums
tim, steve, ethan and oly did the yelling
steve and ethan did the singing

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Treehouses Perth, Australia

faux-pop folk emotion

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