VoidHeart

Every promo I had been intending to use for this project prior to losing my gear and failing to meet any percentage whatsoever of my own unrealistic fundraising goals in today’s economy.

I appreciate any attention anybody paid to the project and don’t mean whatsoever to sound ungrateful.

Hopefully someday, I can give this page a purpose and revive it, granted I wouldn’t hold my breath. I don’t have the whole world and my whole future in front of me as I once did, and I do have some time-sensitive health issues ongoing in my left arm and hand, which is pretty problematic as a guitarist. I’d trade for the right one to be handicapped the same way in a heartbeat. And I’m right-handed. Lol. Anyways…

Thanks for the support. I’ll try to come pick up where I left off someday. If I ever have the means, if you’re reading this, you have my word that I’ll finish this s**t first. I need to, anyways. First time I felt like I had something meaningful to say through my music, and so I look forward to sharing that whenever the universe determines that the time is right and I’m ready to share what I have with everybody.

All my best and with all my love,

Andrew

I do look forward to the opportunity to share the experience of this album and accompaniment by other forms of multimedia alongside it to be served in tandem.

If you can afford to make any donation whatsoever, it will all go towards funding and sustaining the art. I just need my instruments and tools with which to perform it all, and I will begin promptly thereafter.

Thanks all for your readership and consideration. You don’t want to sleep on the depth of the universe I’m here to sell you on. It’s my best work. Period. I’ve found my own voice and never felt so confident or compelled to share a story and underlying meanings throughout my message within as I do absolutely feel in this project.

It’s the summation of all my best work. Give it a chance if you can afford to support at any level. Thanks so much. Hope to show you all more sooner rather than later.

https://gofund.me/9ebdaa98a

My spirit animal, symbolically and spiritually content to be alone and interpreting the brilliant works of creation so easily being brought forth to illumination and fully crafted realization by this particular universe the red fox occupies…the red fox is an animal that exists in the in-between. A solitary creature. Very sheepish about encountering the human abominations hellbent on rendering Mother Earth a necrotic and hollowed husk, forced to shed her skin too soon, revealing deep, persisting vulnerabilities that result in the anthropogenic mass extinction that world scientists have been predicting for decades at this point.

This is why my fox has retreated to the liminal space, within a different, neighboring universe in which there are planets made of pure light, as it can function as stable and stationary objects and act similarly to the way matter did back in Universe 1A, before the humans sent the hologram into a death spiral of dimensional collapse sailing across the fabric of spacetime like a giant and planet-collapsing tornadic cloud of terminal velocity spiraling stormfronts of heavy rain, collected dust, debris, garbage, roadkill, freshly stricken-down, vacuum spin that escapes and swallows against the power of the hard vacuum itself, past earth’s sphere of orbital influence to carry to the stars a few incredibly specific and meaningful totems of death from across the earth’s animal kingdom, seeking to purify the coming rapture in the blood of rare earth and her lifeforms, ungrateful for the gift of life in spite of the 1 in 400 quadrillion odds they overcame against all statistically relevant likelihood exponentially in order to fu***ng exist at all.

I didn’t especially want to grow old anyways. I wanted to glitch out of base reality. Home is in the liminal spaces in-between. As goes the red fox, so goes me. My den is solitary and lonesome but it has proven to keep me warm. To keep me safe. To keep me surviving. To keep me moving. Keep me living. If that’s what we call this.

Help me, one more time? Just…speak to me? It’s so quiet that the ringing in my ears is a screaming and echoing sonic torment I cannot manage to elude, no matter how many dimensions I fold into and unfurl from within the confines of to go higher. Not around, not even below. The only way up to the higher dimensions? Straight through. It’s just like the architects tried to tell us with their monuments and the engraved symbols permanently imbued therein, stained and purified with the blood of an innocent, ancient ritual sacrifice as to denote the importance of it all. As if we’d even flinch to know the truth. Like survival soon will, this knowledge? It eludes.

I want to make my known creative community an active, participating force in finishing the composition of what few loose ends still remain to be seen towards the completion of this album, and conceptually, when you get your hands on the final product, its going to make sense why. I promise.

So, with that being said, please, by all means, just simply copy and then paste (or aim to describe in English or nonsensically gibberish gobbledygook in any 12 point, times new roman font selection) detailing your own choices you wish to vote for as your 5 favorite logos.

Once I’ve finalized my results, I’ll eagerly exhale in sweet relief and use those final selections to market this particular, highly involved and uniquely “me” approach to executing remaining work on the imminently upcoming (I do hope) album portion of my multimedia magnum opus “Unbecoming Me”, which will quite literally be on its way to being scheduled with my producer to work on, soon as y’all have weighed in.

There will be increasingly cool choice perks to collect in terms of fan/connoiseur involvement as the process builds towards its inevitable conclusion as well. I’d love to see a surprising amount of community involvement herein; although, I won’t lie, I’ve learned not to count on it.

Anyways, once I’ve been able to square up, raise, and finance it all into its final form with solicited rapture/apocalypse money, l aim to make it a reality.

Oh, and lest you forget, (my guitar) “This machine KILLS fascists.” Maybe don’t sleep on your boy…not on this one. Bc if you ain’t scared yet, you’re probably stupid bc you sure as s**t ought to be. We’re all expendable peasants and political dissidents awaiting our fated persecution now. They done let me get an acquired taste for that s**t back when, but they never did crush my spirit and couldn’t jackbootedly throat stomp me silent or deter this deeply moral, ethically preoccupied, egalitarian, antifascist rebel heart of man contained shielded behind the prison bars of some broken ass ribs and two iron lungs. Got too much love for these clowns to shut my ass up or stop me from telling my truth, and I ain’t ever been wrong about ‘em yet.

Check the tape, then come back to rebel HQ and holler at your boy. Might just be a flight risk after this project, who knows, so let’s make this one to remember. Last project I fully intend, expect, and somewhat assuredly suspect I might luck out and find just enough time, before I’m disappeared as part of some bogus, trumped up, government conspiracy bs bc they already know I won’t rat, I don’t cave, and that I behave like a sword made of fully erect porcupine quills extracted and bifurcated upon a morning star, dipped in some of that water/sewage mixture that the war criminal regimes of ours here and also Netanyahu’s forces Palestinian toddlers with amputations from sniper wounds, intergenerationally projected to suffer this for many subsequent reproductive cycles to come. The trauma of eating sand and choking on E. coli in ones desperation to hydrate under the genocidal, artificially, astroturfed, purposefully induced famine instituted by the Likkud government and criminal war cabinet’s blockade on humanitarian aid and journalists/international watchdogs getting into Gaza.

History won’t treat us kindly, and so, what I do know for goddamn motherfu***ng certain in my heart of electricity bleeding hearts, glitching me to anywhere but here, where I can live as who I used to be…a lost cause of repetitive loss on repeat, trapped here (or there) with survivor’s guilt, locally known colloquially as a bit of a f**k up who nevertheless made it out, even when the only way was through bc I’m Deja Drew, Fiddle0rphanAndrew, yours truly, as usual, Saint Elsewhere, and I’m signing off.

Goodnight.

Help make the project a reality sooner than later if you can afford it. My entire mission statement and more information regarding an explanation for this unsolicited monetization process can be found at the link below, at which I explain everything in much greater detail.

Thanks in advance for your support.

www.gofundme.com