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on a sailboat

by the smallest one

supported by
Jim Payne
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nusrevlis
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Marcel
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depika45
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1.
from the distance 03:23
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i want to believe it, but i know that it’s not true. so i’ll let it deceive me, as long as my heart doesn’t put up a fight. & i try to erase it from my mind, but it stays. so i’ll stand in the river, & i’ll hope i step out a new man. & i’ll walk in the moonlight, reflecting all the light back up there. & you’ll watch, from the distance, my body turn to dust.
2.
white trees 02:45
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i have seen, in the light of day, the sun turn to black. & i have been in some distant state, & i’ve yet to come back. light spills right through the balcony window. night kills the blue day that was once in there. i have felt my heart grow wide, only to retract. & i have left my dreams to the tide. now they’re salted and cracked. sight leaves the room i once found myself looking. white trees, in bloom, wait patient for painting.
3.
wither away 03:25
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i hang in the closet with old, torn-up laundry, of an empty apartment, pitch-black, sparse, & dusty. my lungs would cry out for a lover to help, if they didn’t know no one would come – oh well. i lay in the grass; there’s a boulder above me – airborne, impatient, just waiting to crush me. my only escape is to lie in one place, & wait for my hungry soul to wither away.
4.
on a sailboat 01:43
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i’m feeling easy. i feel at home. i’m on a sailboat, sailing all alone can i just stay here, floating on the waves? here, in the moment— a calm, & tranquil brain.
5.
could be better 03:47
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no, i don’t want anything real today. show me photographs of skies, & trees, & rivers, & mountain tops. just don’t drag me outside. ‘cause the images look better than they would’ve with my eyes. maybe crank the sharpness & the saturation dials. the less i recognize the objects in the frame, the better. yeah, that’s better. no, i don’t want anything cruel today. go on, break out the make-up, & the smiles. find all your imperfections & bury them. just don’t bat me down with those grey eyes. ‘cause your judgments are better in a bottle, out at sea. where anyone can reach down & read them, just not me. the less i'm subjected to negativity, the better. this could be better.
6.
to give in 04:37
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a fatal flaw; a simple law— it tells you when to start or stop, but isn’t written down, so not as simple as it seems. your subtle tells; your cries for help— they never leave your tiny shell. they hide behind the face you sell to every living soul. there’s a lever attached to your back, that you’ll never reach. the question lingering is whether you should let someone flick the switch. it’s just a phase, or so they say— yeah, one day you’ll find your way out of this dark & stormy maze you’ve wandered all your life. but it’s a lie; you just can’t buy it— vague, unfounded, shit advice. no, some things don’t get better, like the pressure to give in. there’s a letter; it’s folded in your hands, but you can’t recall whether you’re sending it, or if it was meant for you— then again, who’d write to you?
7.
wind (interlude) 02:38
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8.
silent songs 03:40
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make my way around town. unknown faces surround. try to fly away, but i’m stuck to the ground, so i keep flapping my wings. someday i’ll leave everything. give my thanks to the world for giving me eyes that are blurred. see, how could i judge & use such hurtful words toward something that i can’t see. for all i know, it could be me. but i can’t breathe when these heavy eyes keep drowning me. they push & shove ‘til i give up. & no, it doesn’t take long. now i’m singing out silent songs. find my teeth on the floor. hear a knock on the door. i wake up & look to see my favourite books scattered, with all pages torn. in my doorway, a shadow with horns. & i can’t sleep when these demons just won’t leave me be. well, thinking a lot makes room for sick thoughts. once they get there, they don’t leave— & fighting won’t bring on the peace.
9.
maybe (when i've lost my mind) 03:48
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tell me now, why should i go on? 24, still haven’t found a home. maybe if i didn’t have this broken face, i would’ve never had this feeling at all. face-to-face with everything i love— look away when it all seems too much. maybe if i didn’t have this tangled heart, i’d be able to look you in the eye. oh, it comes and goes, & i try to stretch my hand out when it’s close. though i know it to be fleeting, i still play the fool— it just might be the only way to carry on. & when i’ve lost my mind, there won’t be any meaning left to find. maybe that’s the state i’ve been dreaming of. i guess all i can really do is count the days.
10.
if i don't drown 04:41
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another day in the wasteland, where the trees stay asleep, underground. i wake up & check my pulse again, & wait for my heart to pound. if it doesn’t, will i be afraid? looming out in the distance, a torrential thundercloud. find me there, on a sailboat; i’ll be lucky if i don’t drown. & if i don’t, who will i have to blame? lying down on the riverbed— i just might never be found. but on the chance that they excavate, will my bones make a sound? & if they do, what will they have to say?

about

this is an album about home. i'm never sure whether a lasting feeling of home exists. it seems there's always something to hope for, despite the achievement of prior hopes, and it could be, i think, that hope is what keeps us from home.

'on a sailboat' - i hope - chronicles the inescapable human experience of trying to find home in a (potentially) homeless universe. if this isn't the case, it at the very least explores this from the point of view of one who hasn't him- or herself felt or seen the comfort of home without seeing the end of it somewhere not so far ahead.

there's a scene in 'Her' where Theodore Twombly is standing at the front of a sailboat, looking so at ease with things that it nearly brings me to tears every time. as an audience we know his life isn't going so well as it seems in that moment, but if we were to ignore or mentally erase the surrounding information given to us in the film, we would have no reason to think he didn't have an inimitably and exclusively beautiful life.

but there's a contract we all sign, unwittingly, telling us that we can't just erase the ugly scenes that surround the beautiful ones, as much as we wish we could. 'true' happiness, i think, is a concept dreamt by those who wish to profit by the hope it inspires.

i really don't know if this collection of songs captures this thought - a lot of the reason being that it largely draws from the idea and implications of the unconscious. i guess i can only hope it comes close.

credits

released October 17, 2018

written & produced by mason mcconnell.

artwork by Gordon McBryde.

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the smallest one Calgary, Alberta

my name is mason & i like to write songs about things.

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