Damon Writes
"Now for the other life. The one without mistakes." - Lou Lipsitz
Friday, July 24, 2026
about Augusten Burroughs’ “Running with Scissors"
Friday, July 17, 2026
a review of a noise rock EP by Coilguns
The song starts with an octave chord and quieted drums. At 10 seconds, the sound goes big, raw, and passionate. It feels like good Deftones. A few chords swing back and forth to screams of “Tell me, what have we done with our history of peaceful force? Yet, we still have hopes!” Then the bass and a guitar drop out, the intro is recalled—the octave chord and drums pushed back in the mix so the almost spoken message can be heard, "Still thought that our land would export dialog instead of weapons / Still naive enough to support what we thought was our main goal / International help and solutions for a solidar world / But you’ve traded it all and pretend to be forced now to cope."
Then the sound explodes again. The most effective part comes at 2:40 with a falsetto mourn followed by the realization, however fleeting, that "No one’s land here, but a place to die; we will mourn them all, we will mourn them all.” Then belief in life after death returns.
Unlike migration flows, Coilguns runs tight.
Saturday, July 11, 2026
off another life
These rusted-out ears hear the sound of cicadas breathing a second wind into the afternoon, bringing honor to evening. I blinded a few cicadas once—held a magnifying glass to concentrate the sun into a beam burning their eyes out. Then I set them free. I watched with burnt-out eyes that died a string of illnesses. Cicadas flew away like normal.
There are some lives you don’t want to peek into, and hers was one. She told me she raised four children but was the biological mother of three. One died last year at age 26. What remained was a skeleton’s stare filled with secrets.
Saturday, July 04, 2026
about spending 4th of July trying not to think about the hearts at stake
I was trapped and strained toward the trapper. I tell you to work backward from a valley in the Carpathians through the age of apocalypse here in America, to California, to the birth of nanotechnology. When a single molecule splits itself into two and eats you and drinks water into its structures, you discover life is widely available. You consume cold babies to survive but find a dead body kept warm by the levitating boy at Old Moon Creek.
Friday, July 03, 2026
subpar lyrics
Saturday, June 27, 2026
for the love of AI
Friday, June 19, 2026
about a tired-sounding punk/hardcore band
The band plows ahead with its volume-equals-good ethos and centers a maxed-out vocal. The loudest part is always the vocal—chorused layers of it parading machismo.
The Swedish band’s second full-length tries to squeeze a few more miles out of the sound first heard on its 2022 red-blooded crust EP, “Where Life Crisis Starts.” The whole thing was seven minutes. Soon followed the band’s full-length debut, 2023’s “Born into the Twisting Rope.”
I wrote about the first one, “Where Life Crisis Starts,” here.
The band insists on one speed, one volume, and one trick. Its monotonous sound stumbled across the finish line of that brief four-song EP.
It was okay then, as far as it goes. But it doesn’t go very far.
Saturday, June 13, 2026
something about "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs
I enjoyed parts of Running With Scissors and understood it to be a memoir when I picked it up. But as I read, I grew deeply skeptical about its truthfulness and quickly learned after reading that the people depicted in the book also disputed the accounts. This soured me.
Dry includes in the beginning this author’s note:
This memoir is based on my experiences over a ten-year period. Names have been changed, characters combined, and events compressed. Certain episodes are imaginative re-creation, and those episodes are not intended to portray actual events.
Besides this, the story is repetitive, and the prose did not alleviate my frustration.
Dry supposedly describes the author's battle with alcoholism. In the story, Burroughs is a fairly successful advertising copywriter but gets hammered frequently and eventually his colleagues and boss decide to stop giving him a pass.
He goes to rehab, gets out in 30 days, and resumes life somehow, succeeding against his urges. Totally real.
Sunday, June 07, 2026
a text message from the past and a friend gone and from the here and now
I have had some weird dreaming trends lately. It weird because in a way it lasts all night and is absolutely meaningless other than the brain power it must burn. I come in and out of sleep, roll from side to side to get comfortable. As I come to and go back down, I am faced with a near impossible problem to solve, that even though I normally realize this will just go away when I wake up, I become obsessed with solving. It could be very visual. Like some sort of Iron Man movie user interface. Or, some very technical mystery of why something isn't turning on. But, I will dream of this ALL night long. It's almost painful. I’ve never come to a resolution that I can remember. All I know it [sic] that it will end when my alarm clock goes off and I have to get up to do life...Please tell me but don’t tell me. It’s too much, and I have so much to say but want to say it all only in person. Please get me out of this sunrise shootout where we all get written off again. The saddest summer has no shape because grief is shapeless.
Friday, June 05, 2026
about the album "Camgirl" by Crippling Alcoholism
Saturday, May 30, 2026
something about our boss, Bill
Monday, May 25, 2026
about living her life
Sunday, May 24, 2026
(posts) Joe Walsh lyrics
- Joe Walsh ‧ 1981
Sometimes
I can't help the feeling
that I'm living a life of illusion
And oh, why can't we let it be
And see through the hole in this wall of confusion
I just can't help the feeling
I'm living a life of illusion
Pow! Right between the eyes
Oh, how nature loves her little surprises
Wow, it all seems so logical now
It's just one of her better disguises
And it comes with no warning, nature loves her little surprises
Continual crisis
Hey, don't you know it's a waste of your day
Caught up in endless solutions
That have no meaning
Just another hunch
Based upon jumping conclusions
Caught up in endless solutions
Backed up against a wall of confusion
Living a life of illusion
Sunday, May 10, 2026
something about "Eyes Of A Stranger" by Payolas
"Eyes of a Stranger" came out in 1982. The lyrics describe the combination of attraction and fear. The song ends like how it started, with only drums—but minus the clave or whatever that is. That "pop" is gone.
The chorus:
In your lips I sense a danger
You've got the eyes of a stranger
In your lips I see a danger
You've got the eyes of a stranger
From "sense" to "see," he says twice. From a feeling to something more definite. And then he ends the song with the repetition:
You've got the eyes of a stranger
You've got the eyes of a stranger
You've got the eyes of a stranger
You've got the eyes of a stranger
The meaning of the line changes with the repetition. What was exotic becomes remote. He at one time sensed the danger, which drew him in; now he merely sees a stranger. The former moves your heartbeat; the latter, your feet.

