And then we sat,
A little lost but still profound.
Close to the edge,
So close that we might fall,
But we may fly instead.
Have you ever felt like
There’s nothing out there?
Just an abyss.
A forest with no trees,
An ocean with no creatures,
The sky with no stars.
But they are there.
They are all there.
Because it’s only when the light retreats into hiding,
That we can see the sparks fly.
The darkness that spins us round,
points us
In the right direction.
And so we sit.
So close that we might fall,
We do, but we fly instead.
We glide up.
To sit among the stars.
And we look up,
To see more stars,
And we blossom amongst them,
And we blossom amongst them,
And we blossom.
After 13 years, the dimension-bending heavy art-rock band Tool have released a new record, Fear Inoculum. To the adoration of millions of people around the world, one of them is typing this right now.
Alongside each album is an incredibly complex and detailed artwork, usually with cosmic easter eggs that fans discover, and speculate over, for years after the release. …
It’s a funny thing,
To feel so small.
In more than just size,
But not belittled at all.
Like when you’re looking up in awe,
At the empire state from the ground floor,
Or
Being a kid in the woods,
And climbing a wise old tree,
That great oak,
That’s been there for a century.
Grounded,
With its branches outstretched,
You’re looking up at it.
Grounded,
No idea how tall,
Might be the size of the grand canyon
Just the other way around — did
It just creak?
Silently,
but with such volume.
It would speak,
“Don’t worry”, it would say,
“you can climb high”,
And lower an arm,
To lift me into the sky. …
About
