The Origin Of My Depression

by Uboa

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i’m just some girl trying her best ugly as sin a glinner of hope stamped out by those not listening ideation i did my best please don’t hurt me
love is not the origin of my depression gender dysphoria is not the origin of my depression poverty is not the origin of my depression i try to grasp it and every answer fails you are not the origin of my depression people ignoring me is not the origin of my depression awkward social interactions are not the origin of my depression you are not the origin failing everything is not the origin of my depression disappearing is not the origin of my depression not eating is not the origin of my depression but passing out helps it makes me me forget about it your white dress i just dont know what it is its nowhere in my room its not stolen by a lover its not ever... its not secret i try to think of every possible reason why you wouldn't love me but i don't know i don't know why i don't love there is no reason why its aleatory you are the origin of my depression all the doors are slamming shut every sneering face is a parody of you i used to be so confident your war crimes so adorable i miss your white dress every image of [REDACTED] is an image not of you
love cures disassociation disassociation can not cure love i wish it could i miss your white dress [REDACTED]
i've got a cancer for you i am porn unwatched left on a drive untouched i'm a plastic bag i'll never, i'll never degrade (recording) ... facial surgery uncanny wormfood cranial vault fractal images of little girls i would of come out at 8 years old [REDACTED] meta-attraction [REDACTED] as long as their fantasies come to hurt me a fine fruit, that girl (laughter) [REDACTED]
the grace of god is infinitely kind even through he left the door ajar unconditional love whilst mutilating is a little too much love to bear are we mistakes? or are we going exactly to plan? wo/man are made in his image like a broken photocopier never apologise to him for your sins while you inhabit a body pruned in a way that it withers not pruned in a way that i grow i hope he has this stained cloth too
i kiss you and i can taste the girlhood i never had i was dead for 26 years i feel so, so stupid for waiting that i am so close to giving up it’s ontological fate every transition is done too late - - - and the boys want her but pretend they don’t and write her love letters concealed as threats and she stops coming to school and maybe has a quiet overdose and drops out into camming and she has a friend like her and she’s broken too but even when we were assaulted, again and again it’s better to be broken together even death is tolerable if there is truth and we’re truth and i am so scared that all this possible pain is still better than being a corpse in a closet waiting for right moment not for for me, for everybody else and even more scared that i did know but pretended i didn’t a safe and slow rot seems good enough right up to the moment of birth i wish i always were me because hell is fine if i am woman there too and hell is my truth


released February 14, 2019

All music and production by Uboa.




Uboa Australia

Solo experimental music/noise project formed in 2010. ⚧ ☭ contact: uboatheflesh (at) gmail (dot) com

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