As Much As I Forget

by Twinkle Park

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1.
To The Sky 02:40
I always think of you and I'll try to cross the endless ocean. As long as the stars are guiding me, I don't know how much time I need. My dreams sometimes look so far away, and I feel like I am lost. There are angels all around me. They give me faith and hope, with wings to fly, and I have to fly right now, to the skies to find tomorrow. I keep calling you, but there's no answer from you. I'm drifting all by myself. So many tears are falling down. I always think of you and I'll try to cross the endless ocean. As long as the stars are guiding me, I don't know how much time I need. It's a miracle that we could find each other in this world. I don't know how far it is to get there but we know we're always happy 'cus we're trying to look for our dreams together. (I am so full of love I could explode.)
2.
Rotten Woman 02:10
I've got a heart so full of hate I'm afraid it's one day going to burst, making my mom sad and traumatizing those who bore witness to my little heart going out. Everybody's grandma says "it's best to live life with love in your eyes", but I've been hurt a handful of times, so I think I'll stay inside. I dream in polyphony almost every night. If I think so much about wanting to die, why am I so scared of it? I will happily grind my teeth into dust before I tell you I'm hurt. It's something worth upholding while I can. I know I'm a death-obsessed hypochondriac, but my body's out to get me and I've convinced myself I shouldn't make it past age 35.
3.
I haven't been drunk since new years, what a pity. I know I should stop ignoring things that stress me out, I know it stresses you out, sorry for that. Do you remember feeling young? I know that we're still young, but our childhoods were accelerated by factors out of our control. So here we are, both adults in young bodies, and kids in adult bodies. By now I'm on my third or fourth puberty. I mean fuck, right? What's a girl to do when her friends and strangers do more than her country to keep her from falling apart? It's so easy to feel like a burden and a jackass when life's this unrelenting and I just wanna get off. Oh god, please ignore that last part. I've been hormonal these past few months. It's been a long year, but not as long as the last. Doctor Hauzer says these things are bad for me, something about "irreversible effects" as if that's not the point. It's like he doesn't know shit. What won't I blurt out around new people at this point? I'm resigned to a walking embarrassment. There's a lot I never should have said and plenty that I should have that I didn't out of fear. Does that make me a coward, or depressed? It must be both.
4.
Batteries 06:11
My roots show in the ambient light from the open door. Nobody to fix it, I know I've got to learn. She has it together, man, her mom got her a job. I used to think I’d be like her my whole life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m way happier here with people who get me, and not the versions of me they wanna get. (The clean and tidy boy who never wanted to hurt

) Now there’s a battery in my chest, but since when I don't know. Guess I don’t have to care how I treat myself anymore. Reach out and touch my hair, your hands are the same as mine. Done all the same things to try to fix our brains, or at least put them at ease. So it’s my right lung first, and then its my left, my teeth my hair my clothes. I understand if they're disappointed. Bodies hanging off the sides onto the floor. For a moment, it’s like a crime scene. I shake it away, and quietly say to myself, "good thing all I have is the mattress". You’re still our friend, even if you’re not bending over backwards. I assure you, I adore you. We love you all the time. I only open up when it’s ending. tonight, and in life, I'm behind. We swallowed our glass pianos, just to make our problems known. Now we’re all fucked up, and we're all alone, but at least we’re fucked up together. So, we’re all fucked up, and we're alone, but at least we’re alone now, all of us. I hope you're protected, settled down, in love with some nice girl who keeps your ghosts at bay. If I could be in two places at once you know I would, taking turns worried for each other.
5.
When I swore that I was gonna break down, thanks for letting me borrow your clothes. I don't really hate everyone, and I know I've got a lot of growing to do. It's not that you're not important to me anymore, emotional distance is easier. That's selfish, I know, but you hardly seem to mind. Does that make you selfish too? I like to think I helped you like you helped me. I tell myself what I said stuck, and if it didn't thats on you. Doesn't that just fucking suck? Move forward. Take the steps to meet somebody new, and hope they'll be like you.
6.
Don't get me wrong, I'm content with being an asshole and feeling like shit, but is it too much to ask for a change of scenery? Well, surely I can't be the only one with this problem. Do they talk about me when I'm not around? I know it’s stupid to think that I'm any more important than anyone else. If not me, who could I be? I can't tell if the world is big or small, but I hope it leaves my friends alone. I won't act like I'm not still traumatized. Just because we joke about it doesn't mean we're not kept up at night. Yeah, okay, I'm still not over it. We rest our heads on thinning pillows, I reflect on which friends I've seen crying. In the winter, I hoped I'd see you. In the summer, I wanted to die. Maybe that's just how I remember it. Sometimes I think that I miss you.
7.
We Get Older 02:11
We used to do this all the time, I used to think it was the coolest shit, but standing in the cold exchanging blows, it gets old. I could never hear your voice over the phone. Still, it gets worse when I'm alone. I wish I'd do something better with my time, but some memories stop being nice once time has passed. I've read between the lines, it's all set in, that's all there is. I'm sorry we had to stop so much, I'm sorry we never talk these days, I knew I couldn't have it all. For every day that i have spent on clinging to all of my regrets, still letting go's no easier.
8.
Everyone's got their something, ghosts or space or a theoretical love. I know I've got mine, the graceful way you say I carry myself when I walk with you. Well I'm so cute it's despicable not that anyone would know, since everyone has more eyes on them than me. It's not like I'm complaining, it's just been on my mind. I swear, it's always on my mind. I wish I could be cool enough to smoke. I wish I had a heart big enough to forgive. It's totally fine, it's fine, yeah, it's fine 'cus I'm still the shit. How many times will I talk about hearts or ghosts in my songs? My vision whites out if I stand up too fast. But all that I want is some quiet conversation, so can we please turn it down from an eight to a three, so I can focus on feeling sorry for myself and everyone else here? Christ. How many times did I come out to myself before it stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck? And how many more did I avoid? I never want to believe how I feel until I'm half-dead. It’s much easier to stay here in my bed.
9.
There's mold on the windowsills, and moths in the cupboards. Money's too tight, I grind my teeth overnight, but I can press my face against your back, and fall asleep just like that. In the morning I can breathe in still moments, and see them for what they are without thinking on what plagued my youth. I have the hardest time opening up, I think I've written all about it before, but with you its about as easy as i think it could be. I'm starting to feel small again [this is a happy lyric].
10.
I know it stresses you out, sorry for that. I'm beginning to crave new catharsis, 'cus writing songs is getting old. I'll start creating my own problems, and setting fire to my clothes, and when that gets old like it always does maybe I'll find new friends to hate. I can unfairly compare them to old ones and never let myself forgive. The stars are so pretty tonight, I prayed you'd say they look a bit like me. I heard you quit, I know things are changing. When did I become so tiresome to be around? Swear I used to have more hopeful things to say, but I'm at a low point, I'm not gonna lie. My brain feels so poisoned even though so much is right. I never dreamt my skin would be this underwhelming to sit in. For all the work I did to make my bones a home they barely fit. Trauma fixations convince me it's not depression, it's fucking grief, 'cus I feel a whole lot. I feel far too much of this. Doctor (unintelligible) knows these thoughts are draining me, but sometimes despair feels so comfortable, so right. I don't think I want it to, but I can't tell anymore. I always feel like such a man when I can only see things so logically. Is that a fucked up thing to feel? It's hard to believe you, it's hard to believe in you. Like hell I wish I was idly watching my lungs deteriorate. The air is fine and I've got a long way to ride this out 'til the end. I was never a crier, but none of you seem to mind, and it's nice to know I'll always be the sister you all found. Thank you all for reminding me of my worth. I know it stresses you out, sorry for that. Broken light in the city, we're running through a summer day. For every day that I have spent on learning to grow from my mistakes, now letting go gets easier. At least we're alone now, all of us. I will stop wishing for my death at every sign of discontent, through every smile and every tear that went over my head. Give myself time, and some more credit for every day I wake up sad and still get out of bed. I will get out of bed.

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More Twinkle Park music can be found here: twinklepark.bandcamp.com

credits

released April 24, 2020

Album art by Alyssa Leandra

Track 1 is a cover of "To The Sky" from "The Dog Island", composed by Momo Momoshita & Sound AMS.
Track 8 features additional vocals by Alyssa Leandra, Tim Lindsay, Nicky Austin, & Rodrigo A.
Vocals by Megurine Luka
Everything else by Hazel M.

Thanks to everyone at Pop Spirit for the advice, feedback, and support that steadied every step of this album's creation.

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Hazel M, Timothy Lindsay, & friends.

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