[1] The Pleasure ih Grieving is the 1st installment in this series that will explore the reaches of Death, Self Destruction, Self Mutilation, Pain and Isolation.  This was inspired from the writings of Kihlil Gibran, who finds certain beauty within tears and sadness as well as in laughter. I have also found this to be true, after dealing with depression for well over a decade; a person may tend to see this as the only way and in some sick way, begin to find comfort so embedded that it becomes difficult to see a normal life without it. The Silver Box: is taken from the poem of the same name and the significance of a silver box I own. I used to keep the box hidden away storing within it a great number of razor blades, with which I would cut myself. In an effort to stop, I gave the box to a dear friend and she removed the razors and replaced them with positive reminders and band-aids. Ossuary: Like many bouts with depression, the inner termoil is great. The churning of the stomach and the non-stop brain activity. Not to mention the anxiety attacks and the overwhelming feeling of sickness, knowing that if you don't do something now, tomorrow will come and you will suffer through yet another day of misery. Never to try again: The anxiety builds on yet another lonely night. The thoughts so pleasing that, "I want this night to be my last," but it won't. you know good and damn well you will continue to cut and each time, finding that window of clarity, only to have it slammed shut and replaced with guilt and shame. Sometimes you wish the next slice will be the last or even bring the end of this maddness to where you don't need it any longer. Another day comes filled with disappointments and failures proving there is no reason to try.

[2] Pass Away Into Heaven The dreary Darkness continues with the 2nd installment in the series. All soundscapes are taken from a live show  on 05.02.01. All will fail: Razors = Freedom: Slipping away:

Strange How The Dead Bleed Suttee

Distant but Deafening Screams The Fires Burn Cold The Day I am Gone

Quality of Life Has Long Since Passed (Dead But Breathing)

Cleansing The Razor For Tomorrow Respirdal Fading Ember of Survival

The Sun Offers No Light I Too Shall Pass Razorlines Mark The Hours Ruins of What Once Was Lost In The Blackness Within Yesterday Seems It Never Existed

Forgotten (Before My Body Was Cold)

Distancing : Further and Deeper Stareing At The Pills In My Hand Actions Must Be Complete The Noose Before Me, The Life I Leave Kicking Out The Chair

Rejected Enough AllThis That I am, Nothing Drifting Between Realities