• 15 Ativan (Song for Erika)
  • Memory Pools
  • Jimi Bleachball
  • Operating Room
  • Basement Window
  • Sleeping Building Unsuspecting
  • Coffee Cups That Won't Break Down
  • Ninth Floor View
  • Ontario Gothic
  • Cream Scream
  • New Panic Cure
  • Snow Angels
  • To Go Home
  • Shadow's Song
  • Bronte Balloons
  • 8 / 29 / 91
  • School Night
  • Insomnia Keys
  • Please Note
  • Visiting Hours
  • Mialectric (Side B transition)
  • Bathurst
  • March 2011
  • Into the Fields
  • Altars
  • Flashing Lights Have Ended Now
  • Glow (V079)
  • Amanda
  • Sadiya
  • To Josef, In Texas
  • Fifteen Ativan (Alternate Version)
  • Static Cults
  • OCAD Flu
  • Borders (Galleries & Foxes in Fiction)
  • Rearrange
  • Lately (memoryhouse cover)
  • Hospital District
  • Flashing Lights Have Ended Now - Bonus Track
  • Mialectric
  • Tell Me Why
  • Along
  • Jimi Bleachball (Alternate Version)
  • Rain Falls
  • Untitled
  • Courtyard Summers
  • Bathurst (Live instrumental)
  • Breathing In
  • Symmetrical Estimations
  • Borders
  • Peng ! 33

8/29/91 10:55 p.m. This is part of journal entry.
Slow at the track today, my damned life dangling on the hook.
I am there every day.
I don't see anybody else out there every day except the employees.
I probably have some malady.
Saroyan lost this ass at the track,
Fante at poker,
Dostoevsky at the wheel.
And it's really not a matter of the money unless you run out of it.
I had a gambler friend once who said,
I don't care if I win or lose,
I just want to gamble.
I have more respect for the money.
I've had very little of it most of my life.
I know what a park bench is, and the landlord's knock.
There are only two things wrong with money: too much or too little.
I suppose there's always something out there we want to torment ourselves with.
And at the track you get the feel of the other people, the desperate
darkness, and how easy they toss it in and quit.
The racetrack crowd is the world brought down to size,
life grinding against death and losing.
Nobody wins finally, we are just seeking a reprieve,
a moment out of the glare.

Shit, the lightened of my cigarette just hit one of
...

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