The fibers of my past entwine
With the steely setting sky
As I run through the entirety
Of Gus Dapperton’s latest album, Henge.
He brought me to Japan.
Not his words,
But the spirit of his music
Nearly five years ago,
Lifted me
When the life I crave emerged.

I laid on the beach in my hometown
Ready to fly,
Gum Toe and Sole came on,
Memory’s a threshold.
I walked through,
Trusted my intuition,
My back’s now against the glass
Of Osaka Station’s silver steps.
I think of those years as the
Music in my ears
Conveys what he’s overcome,
Crushed the dirt and bled in music
When all we’d rather do is run.

Look at us now.

Deep in the song in mud
The tune, creative souls ascending,
Him and mine and all the others
Out there fucking trying.
Simultaneous ascension toward the
Heaven of our dreams,
Stare down demons on the way
Calling that our work.

’Cause I’m still me, the kid laying in
The sand. I bet he’s still he,
We simply grow, flow, our essence remains;
That’s what sustains the dream.
Our soul.

The weight of thinning gravity
Rips us apart
Love eternally mends;
Life’s tension
Is what we share with the world
To make our ascension toward heaven that
Much sweeter.
It’s surreal,
Fucking surreal sitting here.
Mid summer dusk
Grey station white kicks
Scuffed;
Nearly a year across the world

Climbing.

Building.

Together.

That’s why I love it here.
Watching people move, exist,
Loving hand in hand;
Bands riff below the stairs
It’s a warm, Saturday night.
We’re in this shit together. All tryna climb, neh?
And we can. Towards the fire we desire,
That burning dusk called heaven.
Not once we’re dust but here and now —
Wouldn’t want it if it was easy.
Composed of fallen tears,
Torn autumn leaves.

The world’s to be revered. But not people.
We’re all just people; it’s beautiful — people —
Synonymous with flawed. Imperfect. Trying.
Boundless. Able. Worthy. Fire.
Respect, admire—but revere the dawning sun.
Your success can’t inspire envy,
Don’t want the life you lead;
It’s made for you.
This is me;
Coexist in climbing,
We bear our own weight,
Your words heal me, inspire me, set the fire
Of me blazing. Your music, your dance,
Your smile and laughter
Grabs me by the shoulder and
Says keep going.

Your energy passes through me, shed
In the weight of my bout. Shed
With each broken smile derived from pain,
Shed each time I dance perspiring
Clinging clothes and free
Beneath a summer moon.
Nobody’s watching. I’m here.

Thank you. Thank you for making
Your shit. For trying.
For living your life. For fucking climbing.
For believing in something to climb for.