After Dark

by Todos Caerán

After Dark cover art
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1.
08:53
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03:06
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06:27
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09:51
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06:56
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about

Physical copies to be released soon.

credits

released 01 July 2011
Recorded by Tom Kerr
Mastered by Nick Zampiello and Rob Gonnella @ New Alliance East
Find us here: www.facebook.com/pages/Todos-Caer%C3%A1n/151757394872654?sk=info

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tags: emo post rock punk screamo skramz alberta canada edmonton emo hardcore screamo skramz Edmonton

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Track Name: After Dark
After Dark (intro story)
I walked into the Hotel lobby and was suddenly struck with awe. Within this old building a new life had sprung. Though I had never been in this particular building before I knew this because of the grand decor which was not present on the exterior of the building. The marble floors shone and a tall water fountain enveloped the room. As I continued to look up at my new surroundings I made my way to the front desk. The, "How may I help you?" by a feminine voice from the desk snapped me back into reality, I gazed down and began to repeat the words I have said many times before, "Hello I am with so and so company and I am booked for so and so nights", my work makes it so I am always on the move. As I was reiterating the same lines I've run through so many times I noticed the woman for the first time. She always had a large smile, but that smile was betrayed by a sadness in her eyes. Disregarding this I received my room keys and a hotel worker came and took my bags. I followed him up through the elevator, down what seemed to be a never ending gauntlet of halls. As I walked with this unassuming man I noted the freshly cleaned carpet that was worn down in the center and the walls that were recently painted the brightest of whites. We finally made it to my room and the man left me. The room itself was like any other hotel room I had stayed in; a single bed, an unremarkable bathroom, a television tuned to the hotel station, and a mini fridge stoked with the regular over-priced accoutrements ready to serve. I laid down on the bed, weary from my long flight. As I did this, a new sensation ran down my neck, as if my muscles were becoming more tense. I began to notice a particular odor in the room, a stale mustiness that was not there before. I drew the curtains and tried to open the window, but it would not budge. I
inspected my new habitat more but could not find the source of the odor. My first instinct was to call the front desk. Maybe someone would be able to sort this out, or perhaps I would be given a new room. I dialed the number indicated and immediately was met with a familiar "How may I help you?" on the other end. It was the same woman with the sad eyes. I could hear her insincere smile through the phone and immediately hung up. "Maybe I just need some fresh air," I remember thinking as I made my way to the door. I paced down the hallway and my neck grew stiffer. Why was this hall so long? Maybe I took a wrong turn? Corner after corner passed as I continued to expect to find the elevators, only to find the same familiar hallway staring back at me. My pace quickened as my heartbeat rose, I began to notice the freshly cleaned carpet was pealing along the sides, the newly painted walls had spots where the roller clearly missed and the buzz from the glaringly white lights penetrated through my ears into my very core. Now I was at a full run, my breath was short, my chest tight, my temples pounded, my neck was as tense as it had ever been. I continued this sprint for my life until I finally collapsed to my knees, "I can't get out, I'll never get out," I whispered to myself as I clutched the pounding sides of my face. I peered up to see a familiar shadowy face staring back at me who whispered "I can't get out, I'll never get out."

After Dark
Once again I fall down into this hotel world. A place that casts the illusion of grandeur, of status. A place behind these veils where I feel no comfort. Why can I not find a home? Despite this, I am told that all will be well. I was told that I must trust in my own intuition but why is it I can never shake off this horrible feeling? Why do these hands feel like they are not my own. I was always taught that I must follow what I believed in, that if I found my own confidence all would turn out well. But once again, this mind has
dumped me into this hostile world, what do you do when you no longer trust in yourself? It’s time that I shake off this feeling of betrayal. It’s time that I realize this world is self imposed. That I control my own action, that I create my own home. It’s time to regain trust in my own intuition. It’s time that I accept these barriers. That I trust in myself.
Track Name: The Wild Sheep Chase
The wild sheep chase

As these feet and bodies crash down around me, I feel myself get caught in their familiar flow. Though our end goals may be similar the rate at which we move sets us apart. As more feet and bodies crash down around me I feel my chest heave, as I gasp for breath. The beat of my steps increase with the beat of my own heart. All I wish for is to stop, thought the tides continue to move forward. To find refuge at any port, but I know this is futile. There is no stopping, there is no rest. Not until we each our end.
Track Name: Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
As these events unfold I split my brain, filing all that I see into two separate realities. One is a hard boiled wonderland. A place where there is darkness hiding behind every corner, hidden agendas pulling the strings, causing all of the misery which I run from. The other is morally grey world, where people have no shadows. Where any sense of peace is ignorance, and you can never truly feel fulfilled. No matter how I shuffle my brain I cannot find any sense of peace. No matter where I try to hide all I can find are these same haunting memories illuminated in a new light. I can’t run, I cannot hide from
myself.
Track Name: Dance Dance Dance
Dance Dance Dance

Following the same pattern that I’ve run down before, I repeat these motions which have been burned into my brain, almost a muscle memory. Though everything is the same, something is different. My foot shakes
uncontrollably, the tell tale sign of the subconscious letting me know what I should already know, or what I have been neglecting, ignoring, trying desperately hard to forget. This one moment of weakness where I let everything out everything will change, while the status quo remains the same. Everything moves forward, but nothing ever changes.

I wake up, but where? As if I didn’t know: I’m here. In my life. A part of this world that is my existence. Not that I particularly recall ever having approved these matters, this condition, this state
of affairs in which I feature. Maybe ill stretch, nice and slow. To be sure that I’m myself and not part of something else. Yet ill remember the feel of the dream. So much that I swear I can reach out and touch it, and the whole of that something that includes me will move. I listen carefully, someone softly, almost imperceptibly, someone is crying for me. Gazing, I consider what it means to belong, to become
part of something. To have someone cry for me. From someplace distant, so very distant. From, ultimately, a dream. No matter how far I reach out, no matter how fast I run, I’ll never make it, no I‘ll never make it. Why would anyone cry for me.
Track Name: The Wind-up Bird Chronicle
The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

When my dreams begin to take hold as the subject of my reality, I wonder how I can live up to the expectations which I have created artificially. As momentary thoughts begin to register in the world I hide from the subject of my dreams and reality begins to bend away from my intentions. And I feel guilt for what I think I have done. In reality I have done nothing and that is the problem. I would rather hide everything inside then go out and face the world. Like a wind-up bird I remain silent as these dreams crash down around me.