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The Convincing Actor Is: "Jersey Girl Forever"

by The Convincing Actor

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1.
Get this indie shit out of my head, so I can make some real music instead, get this indie shit out of my head, so I can make some real music-- There’s a country fog in my curtains today, pick a breath and breathe it, quit being skimpy, use the words desire gave me, don’t forget there’s a way I love to say it… don’t forget that my body, has a language… ‘Cuz we don’t need a girl president, we need a dead president, we need a bullet lodged in his fucking head president, anyone who wants that much power is ignorant, thinking they’ll do any fundamental good with it, genocidal maniacs, once you pay your dues there’s no ethics where you’re at, you’re for the-- People using cities up and throwin’em away, it’s not a movie set for your personal journey, look at your shiny new bombable apartment building, lower your head and get the stars out your eyes, fuck off, die, fuck off, die, fuck off, die, fuck off, die, I think a lot about I wish I had a landline…
2.
What I wouldn’t give for a pipe bomb right now, children used to play and smoke here, now man-children pay to smoke here, community is the butt of the joke here, bunch of satellites shelling out for a two block radius of the illusion that they fit in (that they fit in), but they’re just reproductions of their own characteristics, like stained glass they’re attractive only because the light passes through them, failures trying to hide their cycle of ignorance, in letting developers demolish the city around them, what I wouldn’t give for a pipe bomb right now, shove it in a pig’s mouth like an apple, skin him like a roast and watch him crackle, his only value is as kindle, tall and up in smoke like a prayer candle, what I wouldn’t give for a pipe bomb right now…
3.
I know you’re praying to cum, I see you praying down there, you’re praying to cum, you’re praying to cum, you’re praying to cum, I see you praying to cum, I’m gonna thrust hard as I can, I’m gonna love hard as I can, but on the rain is no one, you see the drop no rider has, you see it fall out of lungs, you see it cling to sidewalks wet, I see you praying to cum, I’m gonna thrust as hard as I can, I feel I’ve punctured my lungs, I feel like I have never slept, and there is no one, I see you’re praying to cum, but there is no one, I see you looking straight up, but there is no one…
4.
Fuckety-Cunt 01:16
(There’s a pain in my ache can we sit and talk)(Heaven in her heart)(Undone) There have to be people who hate what I am, for style I mean, god’s conscience is green, when I was a teen if I hadn’t a closet to burn up a picture who would’ve bought it, a story is palpable a blurb is salable, a poem is fictional just like a person, I’m not sure what I mean but if I mock the whole of it I might know the stake that a trans bitch holds in it-- He says I dress pretty non-conformist for a man, fuckety-cunt no he’s not doin’ the best that he can, he’s telling me his favorite beatle is paul, fuckety-cunt who ever gave a fucking shit at all, he’s askin’ me yeah but what’s your old name for context, fuckety-cunt how’s that supposed to lead to sex, he’s saying he’s sorry he’ll buy me a drink, fuckety-cunt I guess I’ll take it so I don’t have to think, ‘cuz for me, personally, it’s all about wanting this actively, I’m not trying to be cis, every day I love being a trans bitch… Every day I love bein’ a trans bitch…
5.
Let me curl up on you, let me grow up all around you, just to be, we all need time just to be, gaining pleasant-speckled thoughtlessness, flecks of spice all neuronic and beautifully slight, let me curl up on you, let me half-sleep all around you, we all need time to be… My girl is brave, my girl is beautiful, my girl is not a yutz, my girl is strong, my girl has hypotheses that could change the way we view various norms… Let me curl up on you, let me flicker all around you, like strobes that usher into annihilation, let me half-sleep around you, like vines entomb a warehouse, let us be one in a way, and even if we go our separate ways, let us be here in a way, present in a way, movement and away…
6.
Welcome to the mysterious and crying stillness, I went to new york once and it had nothing on this, there’s a jersey country mist in my armpits, silence caws across the land… Waking up feeling like my eyes’ been replaced by landfills of dust, close ‘em up and see porn dried lilting from a wooden oar strung like strands of herbs, can’t breathe ‘cuz my lungs’ blurred, let mine revert into peace, I never wanna feel this way again, is there no one on which to depend, give, give--- Give it up for the mysterious and crying stillness, I’ve been to secaucus and it goes something like this, there’s a north jersey mist out when I spit, silence caws across the land… So I met a friend at the path and we wove between the estuaries, saw a horizontal waterfall that tricks the eye unleash a twilit pause, is there any way I will breathe again without I’m as though in debt to wind, filling up so far and precious until I ache and every heartbeat lurks as though mistaken, in a shade eerie and lost and fading-- Welcome to the mysterious and crying stillness, I went to new york once and it had nothing on this, there’s a jersey country mist in my armpits, silence caws across the land…
7.
My baby’s gonad’s in a dark box, the wedding ring licks my innie from behind the locks, but once inside I feel I can’t rock, I hear a leering jesus leave a knuckle’s knock-- And these panic waves are catching up with me, there’s something hard-wired inside that is afraid of being alive, who knew I’d be so good at concealing it, doesn’t ask my consent to just hide, hide, hide, hide, hide… My baby’s rotting and it won’t keep, I’m passing out just to approach sleep, wake up asphyxiating on saliva I secreted three hours ago (bored of the bitterness grieving wind), accruing new trauma like an efficient war machine-- And days of feeling inhuman are catching up with me, not even small catharses to confide, look an assclown from down the block, every day he’s renting the privilege to hide, hide, hide, hide, hide… Did you think a privilege unchecked could hold a city so still, like a fetus in its hands, the ones who use our bodies as permission slips, have plans…
8.
I don’t wanna learn from anyone but you, you’re like that can of worms that pleasantly enlightens without months of edgy argument, desire without concern, for if anything spites you the concepts twirl and turn, conceptually unbound from whence they’re, booked and burdened so… And Mother Mary combs, the hair of a girl bird, in wait in a frame so gold, it’s plastic all the way back around, dollared on a shelf, awake from a latin chant, unfettered by its rounds, she’s bagged and swung about, alongside tapes and tissues… I tried to lose everything I could lose, ‘cuz why be heavy as hell, that’s why they keep it down so low, it’s with every step a boundary I can choose, and cities they would burn, if everyone loved you, they’d tear each other apart, looking for the mystery ‘til their faces all tore down-- ‘Cuz I know they got a rosary drives in the street, they got it sweeping leaves they got it selling meat, in abundance regrettable dance around in grief like a funeral procession for pets put to sleep, I want nobody in my coloring bible, the words collapse themselves in cranial arrival, all depends on the veil do they let her love it? Try to catch a break… A child is a command, to grow up or give up, so pray me who do you love, the one who faded miles behind you, or the one who’s right in front? And Mother Mary if you must come down take a rest on my love…
9.
What’s this greeting on my plate, acerbic exhortation begging me to come away, leave my objects lone, what’s that tepid little snort, like pigs from ‘twixt my knuckles can my own hands too exhort that all in me must change!?... It’s funny how we meet the river, animated through it and it’s something like love, it’s funny how we meet the river, elevated from it like it’s nothing at all… To give in and lose track of all my symptoms ‘til ineffable, resultant murk extensive ‘nough to make me lose faith, I’d feel home again lulling to the past, maybe I’d that wish already, and gotten it I did but surely being this again ain’t worth being a kid… It’s funny how we meet the river, animated through it and it’s mormon like love, it’s funny how we meet the river, elegant and through it like we’re earmuffs of air…
10.
Parsing things is normal you’ll be fine, being puzzled is normal you’ll be fine, you are loved you will be fine, and yes for who you are you will be fine, if you don’t find this realistic just know at times I felt it out of necessity, it seemed delusional to me, but that’s the best of belief, you have to have empathy for yourself once in a while… Your body is ill allow yourself the sweetness of mourning a moment the safety you once felt, but somebody out there with lots of expertise will see you easily as a machine, and craft you so cleverly, you will be held like an art piece, a way to take your life back again and resign yourself to winds without fear of losing what stays you… I oftentimes focus myself clear through things, out of fear resignation will put me to sleep, and analyze clear to a full-body numbness, a personal hell with no cleanly release, today I drove up to elizabeth, and got me a burger and a lulo in milk, ate by the water and still-lit new years decor skeletons, and several fishermen, in the hail I ate and watched tugboats dissipate into mist-- I’m so lucky to have you, when I imagine support you are near and real, sometimes I feel the shrieking in my temples cawing out and asking me to leave everything behind, go somewhere gone-like and hide out from everything, don’t let me take that chance of losing you, don’t let me take that chance of losing you…
11.
Crying lakes of blood and beer and meat, and her daughter just as sweet, parting mother at the knees, like a boulder peat, crying down and in and out again, like a fairly-weathered friend, on whom you’ve come to depend, see them fade to blending in-- Hook your hands and hear the babies squealing as my ass parts, and juice me like a kitten ‘twixt the tire and the asphalt, mid-nap you’ll slap me ‘wake until I wiggle and I pass out, been days since felt a human so don’t even have to mask your glee, what more to ask of me just treat me like a bag of mold and limp-left leaves from down a leafless tree what more to ask of me, without the smack I gotta mark anyhow so match the red and the round and beat me…
12.
Doctor you gotta hear me fresh, you can’t just base me on somebody else’s diagnosis, everything about me’s getting worse, the lines between my mind and air are blurred, you don’t know I’m a woman but you brush me off like one, how long until my body gives me up and calls me done… If I were still drinking I’d move to staten island, it always seems so desolate and unfounded, I’d slobber ‘bout like pond scum in derealized hell-bliss, and hover round this landfill like a sniff an upper lip, you don’t know I’m a woman but you brush me off like one, how long must gods innumerable consider me their son, I’ve hardly ever visited my heart when it was green…
13.
Fall back, wheels crag, shake mine, ashes off, he decays when the lamp turns off, then betrays what the flesh had sloughed off, all the tree’s rings, dangling things, he’s gotta breathe with the lungs that the lord brings, on his rugged wings, jingling things, there’s baby’s breath in the lungs that the lord brings… Fall back, wheels crag, shake mine, ashes off, weeds bray, howling flays, ribs clean, of their glaze, he belays when the ground tilts south, and the earth rolls into god’s mouth, and his blood thinks, would I could bleed, from the ground-meat reigns of this bitch-thing…
14.
The way that you kissed me so soft and sweet (oh right on the lips), was like the way I was once kissed in a dream, but it was by a giant hellbeast, it was by a giant hellbeast, oh baby your love is triggering me… The way that you believe me with such real belief, was like the way I was once heard in a dream, but it was by a two-headed sheep, with a jaw full up of blood and pigs’ feet, oh baby your love is triggering me…
15.
When I, when I think of you, smells like a perfume I used to smell…
16.
I’m only twenty five and sometimes I forget your face, it shows that traces can be fleeting no matter what the pace your life takes, I’m barely 25 and I’m forgetting how to breathe, I’m doing 7 drugs to do what my body should repeat, with the way I’ve treated myself this could be my mid-life crisis, some days are better than less but all days are worse than nothing… Maybe if I left my front door in the morning, and didn’t see luxury apartment buildings built on bodies built on bodies, I’d know this world cares for us, and not experience this loss of sanity and trust… When a doctor listens to me and treats me like their equal, I feel such sweetness like I’m regressing back into childhood or like I am some animal, why must I equate what should be normativity, to such disquieting fears… People who drink are the luckiest things they forget their troubles at least a saturday, meanwhile I sit alone stuffed of angered gut and bubbles that I’m not allowed to burp away, I miss being an alcoholic, I miss my friends being alcoholics, I miss the weed and cigarettes on everybody’s breath, I miss not feeling sick, compared to this it’s bliss, I’ve never heard of cycles like this not leading to death, I’m being too stealthy, dodging too many blessings just to survive this piss-breath life… I tell myself I’ve dealt with worse, the old pain did recede, but new pain isn’t pain relief, maybe I tried to live in too much of the world at once, I wanna live so badly it’s eating me up, compulsory imaginings of being beaten and waking up in the hospital and trying to kill myself, imagine feeling like you could go anywhere, imagine remembering you can and then panicking, imagine feeling like you could feel without losing your mind… My deadname’s all about me like a grave, comorbid with so many things, who wants to relinquish their identity just to quench some unrelated pain, still relief is relief, I’m in so much pain and fear there are times I’d sacrifice anything… I know a god who always speaks of people and their gentleness, and how it’s truly key in their survival, whatever that means, I live in his dreams…

about

Running time: 40:56.

The Convincing Actor Is: "Jersey Girl Forever" is:

the latest in many a celebration of New Jersey's greater metropolitan and industrial sprawl, most notably the cities of Elizabeth, Newark, Secaucus and Linden. At its weight it intends to describe the way whitewashed prosperity theology, pop psychology, smart technology and rainbow capitalism come together to gentrify and segregate this landscape, and the method by which a young person therein can deconstruct and question their mental and physical unwellness to combat these geopolitical weapons. At its lightness it intends to describe nothing in particular.

also a sonic description of my experience making music as a trans person and recovering addict with ADHD (having not been diagnosed yet at the time) and diagnosed OCD, PTSD and TMJD during the winter that spanned 2020 and 2021, during which I was holed up with increasing auditory processing dysfunction, horrendous breathing issues and fits of derealization. I was convinced that my hearing and vision were both failing me. Thusly the production of this album intends to aestheticize that interior world in which volume, timbre, shade, light and physical sensation were all at odds with each other, and with desire, and could become violently variable at any moment. This was in part achieved through recording and manipulating remote controls hitting coffee tables, slamming doors, radiators, sinks, clanking glasses and the like, which are found spread along the album. All in all this album is strikingly laid back compared to the mania and distress that brought it by necessity into being, if it is laid back to any extent.

Thank you for listening. I dedicate this album to everyone who likes it.

credits

released October 14, 2021

All music written, produced and performed by The Convincing Actor, with the exception of the opening vocalist, Nightshade. Cover photograph by The Convincing Actor, cover model is Veronica Hahr.

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The Convincing Actor Roselle Park, New Jersey

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TRANS WOMAN

ROSELLE PARK, NEW JERSEY

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