Brian Celio

I was born a citizen of the stag nation. I’m male but incomplete. My masculinity is affected but not hopeless, nor pointless. Unaccompanied, I’ve been searching for a feminine lining to adorn my attire of totality and sublimity. I’ve learned that eclectic melodies can generate electricity, which, in effect, reveal notes hidden by the same old song. For years, I’ve been listening to the frequency on which society rambles and oscillates between two short lengths: one barely rising above positive, the other barely below negative. Therein, revolution speaks in a stutter; repetition so fluently. It’s always been this way. Now I seek to destroy it, but without the claws of nihilism. I can already feel the prenatal sensations within my hands: freely pealing back humanity layer by layer til our sensibilities ring out in cadence. From here, we compose. Guided by none, tuned by all. The world is our apex. And if we have to work our way through shards and ashes, so be it. Foundations need not be stable, only reachable. All things must be destroyed. All things must be considered. A new noise must be heard.

Composed on the 30^th day of January 2008

Inspired by The Shape of Punk to Come