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Someone Else's Story

by Marumaru

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got a lump in my throat that i can't swallow down and i've spent the last six months trying to untie my guts but i feel them all falling out now oh, you try to fade away from the real, forget your name leave your body to the dirt and dissipate (one second silent selfless...) but the weight wraps tight 'round my chest and i'm pulled back down to myself and it chokes up every breath while you sing a song about somebody else
sometimes, in soft light or drowned out in periphery you may find a piece of me in focus, i'll fake it sketch lines that form a forced smile waiting for this sound and light to slow solidify inside but it's taking its time... and i, i can't live like this in whispers as a spectre floating faceless out in middle distance in truth, i've forgotten who i was or wanted to be before these chemicals worked their way into my dreams and i'm told they'll make me more like me oh, i was sold to think my soul just might be seen but i've lost sight of what those words even mean any more i was sure, with enough time and love i could reach for the rungs i could pull myself out but now— (down here in the dark all i see is stars)
pin my hopes and dreams on a fickle fleeting thing watch them walk away while i’m frozen in place it’s easy to believe that whatever’s out of reach must be perfection under all this misdirected affection homemade heartsick for a hopeless romantic i fall in love with everything strangers and fiction distant faces in motion i fall in love with everything god, i fall in love with the slightest smile (you should know better you should care less) take no chances these saccadic romances give me comfort in defeat there’s no way to break a heart that never truly beat
One Second 04:19
lensless glasses, bows and flowers burn them all and see what bones remain who are we if not our bodies? what should i be called if not my name ? like a new year's resolution every day i find new ways of breaking all the things i want to change keep changing spinning while the centre stays the same i just want to feel one moment without all the moments around it one second spent silent and selfless oh, and setting aside all the dust and debris, all the miserable monologue and memory find out who was buried underneath ask what her name might be riding the train home that night, i realised how i was afraid to give up all my fear followed the gravity down and i stayed there waiting for the weight to disappear
the terror of ruled lines on pure white with every phrase i'm fighting defining the distance between me and the me i might be once the right words find me i could be a fan favourite i could be anything to anyone dye your hair red, give 'em hell, kid grow it out, shut your mouth try your hand at the silent type pick a script and just stick with it 'til the shoe fits break your bones if you need to you'll learn to walk on old wounds make me your brand new favourite i could hang proudly on your picture wall write me a song or a story fill in my blanks and solve my mysteries until you long for something deeper than i'm offering the sweeter hearts and storied pasts i'm only posturing i could be real someday i could collapse my probabilities be safe in certainty
(it's like taking a deep breath inside of a vacuum) you have to practice your screaming if nothing comes in nothing can come out there's no release in these small choking sounds this monotone drone this quiet howl you have to let off the pressure maybe you need to punch a mirror or something? i know it's not really up your alley but the sight of blood is just sooo dramatic you have to work on your phrasing you use so many metaphors i don't really know what you're saying get your story straight no, no-one really needs more than a syllable when asking you how you've been you have to perfect your pronouns make sense of all of this "you" and "i" and "yours" and "mine" maybe let's leave the confessional lyrics to the people with nothing to hide? it's so cute when you convince yourself you are capable of change take a minute, write a list of your wishes watch the letters all rearrange you have to ease yourself into the routine, the little things every day make your coffee take your pills and shave weeks and months, peaks and troughs the steady spiraling down ever impatiently waiting for the flatline in due time my mind may find a way to make the best of this or else, instead it doesn't matter what you call it, it's still the same. or what you call yourself - no, a name helps nothing. It doesn't matter if you stay home or leave, you will always feel alone on a new year's eve. and you can cry your eyes out, and you can write a sad song, and you can lie on the floor and wait for death to collect, and you can force your next breath until you think this will end, but it won't ever stop. but it won't ever stop. but it won't ever stop. but it will never ever--
if i could believe what anyone says if i could love myself only half as well as i can anyone, everyone else if i could just ask for help is it too much to say i'm not a mistake? ‘it's never too late’ and all of the old clichés to just pretend for one day
Yoshino 06:00
maybe we can start again somewhere with the words unsaid, we'd build a home safe and soundly sung in summer air and skip our histories across the sea like stones and find the kinds of problems that we dreamed to own and i'd sing a song about somebody else


i know this kind of addled retrospection has become old hat lately, but here i go: 2017 seems both multiple lifetimes away and still all too recent. i released this album on my birthday that year: three years after my first major depressive breakdown, two years after pinning a great deal of the ensuing emotional avalanches on gender dysphoria, and a year after beginning to medically and socially transition. it was a milestone for me, musically and emotionally. i immediately retired my music alias, scrubbed a lot of my internet presence, buggered off to japan for a while, and began another slow process of reinvention, desperate to become someone new, someone better.

with time, i’ve come to a kind of détente with the army of my old selves. the further apart we drift, i come to see our similarities clearer; i can see what they were trying to do, for themselves and for me, the future they were always waiting for. if they could make this album for me - one that i do still love, despite my fear, my self-doubt, and the persistent nagging thought that i could tweak the mix a little more - i owe them some gesture of thanks.

so here i am, re-releasing this album into the Marumaru canon; formally tying a part of me i’d once severed back on to the main body. i’ve ignored that nagging doubt for now (one must learn to live with one's mix decisions!), but have opted for a gentle re-master, and proper capitalisation. baby's growing up.

i know now that i'm an eternal work in progress, and nothing i make may ever be finished for good, least of all myself. i look at photos of myself from the past and see a stranger; but i can still hear myself, my real self, that silent centre, in these songs.
thanks for listening, especially those of you who were here for round one of this thing. stay tuned for brighter things to come, as always.
- avery, jan 2023


released July 6, 2017

words and music by Avery Hutley
album artwork by Ali Woodruff




marumaru Kyoto, Japan

a permament placeholder // mysterious multi-genre musicworks from post-ironic idol Avery Hutley

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