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do not understand me too quickly

by Bitter Fictions

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about

june 2021, once again the last month of living in an apartment. not one I remember fondly beyond the rent, but closing a chapter nonetheless.

the twilight of living "alone"

apartment living under pandemic times, as if anyone needed more reason to dislike the neighbours. it's 'quarantine' but parties are happening anyways, who cares about that family in the front hall with the kids and the roaches? certainly not the guy downstairs who asserts it's all fake, "just like people on disability", vaping into oblivion and always asking for smokes.

he'd sometimes work for the guy who unfortunately lived directly across the hall from me, old enough to be my dad, proud of a decades long crack habit and his ebay scores. for common ground we'd commiserate about shipping costs. every morning the sounds of eminem, backstreet boys and the b-roll of 80s canadian rock radio at "I've worked in bars longer than you've been alive" volume. not really the kinda guy you'd want to hear explain his "I understand the fantasy" porno preferences but he'll tell you anyways. one night I couldn't get to sleep because he was loudly pleading into the hall, "please stay, please stay, really I'm a cool guy" - tough to afford escorts under those shipping rates

or the girl upstairs whose tinder date got mad and smashed the front glass wall to the building, the hugest sound I'd ever hear there. he claimed it was an 'accident' but nobody smashes fist through glass that strong by accident. you could follow his blood trail down the street for blocks, see where it pooled when he had to wait for the traffic light to change. the wavering dots past fast food establishments he might have considered trying to get napkins from

I don't know when the owners got around to replacing what must have been an expensive pane of glass. the interim plywood was still up when I left.

not surprised most people living there got out or at least had plans to.
place is falling apart and the rent only goes up. nobody wants to remember these years, in worse shape than the sun stained thrift store landscape painting hanging jagged and warped in the hall

the only thing I miss was the bakery nearby and being able to walk to all those gigs that never happened.

don't feel bad about my shoddy repair work. they didn't fix anything in that place after years of asking and the fuckers still tried to take my damage deposit. I'm not footing that bill. sorry whoever moved in next, you probably found the coat rack was only for appearance and the shower rod only stays up because I crammed enough pizza box between it and the wall. it's your turn to try.

credits

released June 30, 2022
d.m. friesen - guitar, microphone, recording/production etc
recorded at r.m. (calgary ab) june 2021

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Bitter Fictions Calgary, Alberta

aka d.m. friesen
negative feedback serenity distortion electric gtr, tapes, etc

"chordal reverberation, howling feedback, scorched earth scuzz [...] alchemized into a gorgeous harmonic spiritualized sonic journey, a post no wave (?) aria for guitar"--psi lab

an introduction: bndcmpr.co/893503ab
... more

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