Desesperanza

by Desesperanza

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  • Desesperanza pro-tape by Nebular Carcoma Records
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    Includes the demo version of "Vacuola..." as a bonus track.

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about

Desesperanza's music was composed mainly throughout 2008 and did suffer modifications and improvements until 2013 when it was recorded. The lyrics are poems written in 2006 and therefore reflect my past views. They were not initially intended to be part of any project; I still hadn't conceived the idea of Desesperanza when I wrote them. The material remained unreleased due to the lack of a drummer before 2010 and the funds for production until 2013.

This album was recorded during the production of Precaria Ex Humanitas, taking advantage of the remaining studio time. However, due to my personal bankruptcy (after Precaria's release), I wasn't seeing the possibility of physically releasing it. In consequence, I presented it as a digital format release in December 2014 and quickly got the interest of the Spanish underground label Nebular Carcoma Records whom offered me a professional printed press of 100 tape copies which are already out of stock so it is very hard to find though the majority of the copies were spread to other labels and distros via trades (I've encountered Caligari Records and Esfinge de la Calavera selling them).

The recording of this album (tracks 1-4) was done with the only purpose of not leaving this dark work back in the past, as a memory - stuck in the nothingness. As even if I don't identify entirely with the lyrics anymore, they were carved from the deepest realms of my being at that time, and so is the music, being passionate and 100% honest material. That was the time I got pulled into funeral doom and the depressive styles of black metal (something clearly reflected on my youtube channel); my situation made me feel identified with them, although this has vastly changed.

Musically, Desesperanza could be described as obscure and surreal black / doom metal about death, grief, mass suicide & transcendental chaos, or, in a fewer words: atmospheric black metal with funeral doom elements. On its production I tried to stick to the sound I wanted it to have originally, from the vocal tone and variations to the specific drum beats and the atmospheric guitar sound and it was achieved.

It is uncertain if I'll ever compose more material for Desesperanza. I'm at least now able to keep this work with me forever.

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released December 26, 2014

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Desavenencia

Desavenencia is a label for my own music.

For personalized Audio Mastering services contact: Desavenencia@hotmail.com

Current projects:
▪ Precaria (Orthodox Black Metal)
▪ Qliphomantia (Ritualistic Black/Death)
▪ Desesperanza (Atmospheric Black/Doom)
▪ Noxvoid (Funeral Drone Doom)
... more

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Track Name: Vacuola Universal de Penuria y Decadencia
Vacuola Universal de Penuria y Decadencia

La vacuola de la vida es una esfera de caos, dentro de ella hay penuria y ella esta dentro de cada humano. Se manifiesta conforme tragedias se van efectuando y conduce hacia la inevitable decadencia y el óbito absoluto.

Enterrar en lo profundo del ser el deseo de prevalecer, estar inmerso en la frustración de no poder, tomar de la mano la vida y que ella te tome del pié, renunciar al camino del bien y adentrarte en el mal... ¡Acaba tu vida, libérate de este mundo ya!

No temas cortarte las venas, ni a una guillotina en el cuello, estarás induciéndote a tu propia libertad, es sólo un traslado a un momento mejor, el único en tu vida al que te le podrás entregar con toda devoción. Nada ni nadie conoce algo tan sagrado como agonizar calmado sabiendo que tu vida ya fue el pasado.

El ciclo del mísero hombre, repitiendo los mismos errores, abismado en eterna decadencia...

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Universal Vacuole of Penury and Decadence

The vacuole of life is a sphere of chaos, inside of it there's penury and it dwells inside every human. It manifests as tragedies keep occurring and it drives towards inevitable decadence and absolute grief.

Bury in the depths of the being the desire to prevail, be immersed in the frustration of being incapable, hold life from the hand and let it pull you down from your foot, renounce to the path of righteousness and delve into evil... End your life, free yourself from this world now!

Don't fear cutting your veins, nor a guillotine on the neck, you'll be inducing yourself to your own freedom, its only a journey to a better moment, the only one in your life in which you'll be able to surrender with entire devotion. Nothing and no one knows something more sacred than to agonize calmly knowing that your life has already been the past.

The cycle of the miserable man, repeating the same mistakes, abyssed in eternal decadence...
Track Name: Amargo Néctar de la Desgracia
Amargo Néctar de la Desgracia

Amargo veneno vil que dilatas las pupilas, ensalivas la boca y embriagas con engaños llamado: vida. Con tus rencores condenas a quien te ingiere, incapacitas el propósito que se sostiene.

Limitas la trascendencia de la psique, te mofas al ver que nos sentimos insaciados. Nos odias y nos crías...

La vida humana no es más que un fruto podrido. El hombre perece y la mujer carece, ambos frutos pudriéndose en aislamiento permanente.

Despréndete de la superficie donde escurre el néctar, es mas dulce adherirse a la verdad, que consiste en encontrar tu camino y morir habiéndolo conseguido.

La polinización del ser humano por la desgracia, germina las enredaderas de su propia destrucción.

Insignificantes son las palabras de uno, cuando para uno lo insignificante es uno mismo.

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Bitter Nectar of Misfortune

Bitter vile venom that dilates the pupils, salivates the mouth and intoxicates with deceit called: life. With your rancours you condemn everyone who ingests you, you incapacitate the purpose that's being upheld.

You limit the transcendence of the psyche, you taunt when you see we feel unsatiated. You hate us yet you breed us...

Human life is nothing more than a rotten fruit. Man perishes and woman lacks, both fruits rotting in permanent isolation.

Detach from the surface where the nectar drips, its sweeter to adhere to the truth, which consists in finding your path and dying having achieved it.

The pollination of the human being by it's misfortune, germinates the convolvulus of it's own destruction.

Worthless are one's words, when what's worthless to one is, in fact, oneself.
Track Name: Espiral Descendente a la Perdición
Espiral Descendente a la Perdición

Siento un vacío interno donde lo único existente es dolor y confusión, siento que nada tiene sentido y estoy aquí desgraciadamente para sufrir (vivir) y morir, sin siquiera saber lo que me espera o lo que no, mientras tanto el tiempo pasando y yo no hice nada porque la misma vida no me dejó, ni me dejó sentir paz, ni me dio alguna esperanza para estar bien.

No quiero reír, ni quiero llorar... No quiero sentir, pues mi sentir persistente es una carga de dolor, pero uno siente si esta vivo... Desearía nunca haber nacido. No haber nacido en este mundo erróneo que me separa del descanso que deseo... ¿Moriré pronto? ¿Cuánto me falta? Si así será, que sea rápido y en este instante pues este dolor me mata pero muy lentamente. Tal vez este deseo es de vida y no de muerte, pero estoy seguro de que jamas viviré, pues esto es mero sufrimiento. Llamaría a esto: morir en vida.

Tal vez la enfermedad de mi alma sea provocada por una profunda melancolía o por una insoportable soledad... Puedo causar mucho dolor pero considero que los demás son un dolor para mi; nunca cometería suicidio porque la vida es lo único que tengo... Si alguien mas tuviera mis ojos, podría ver que el mundo es el verdadero infierno. Pero no estoy preparado para morir pues hay una vasta cantidad de coas que se tienen que hacer primero. En una manera paradójica pienso que el mundo es perfecto pues existe el sufrimiento y sufriendo uno siente. Es incorrecto no sentir nada, nunca, ser como una piedra esperando a que el tiempo la deforme, la erosione. Todo lo que se puede vivir es desorden, por eso todo y todos están cambiando, siempre, de no ser así no habría capacidad para pensar, ni siquiera para tomar decisiones inconscientemente. Esto es el divino caos, sensaciones y momentos, ilusiones que mueren con el tiempo. ¿Será que mi presencia en este mundo es necesaria? No lo creo.

¿Cuándo ha sido tanta la significancia de estar vivo como para no hundirse en el fracaso? Mas bien esto hace sentir una angustia tan grande hasta el punto de llegar a atentar en contra de la propia vida; esa es la verdadera desesperanza.
Al final del arcoíris hay un cofre, un cofre lleno de dolor. Aun así, ¿Cuál es el significado de esperanza? ¿En serio existe algo tan hermoso? De algo si estoy seguro, la desesperanza es en realidad la clave para encontrar una esperanza: el deseo de suicidarse.

Vida, insignificante enigma, ¿Por qué te poseo? ¡Culmina ya! No quiero estar vivo, perdido en este laberinto de enferma desesperanza. Estoy al borde de refutar mi propio argumento de evitar suicidarme. ¿Será mejor dejar que la vida se realice sin mi presencia, y yo prescindir de ella? Sea como sea, no dejaré que la vida me termine. Yo mismo acabaré con ella.

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Descending Spiral to Perdition

I feel an internal emptiness where the only things existent are pain and confusion, I feel that nothing has meaning and disgracefully I'm here just to suffer (live) and to die, without even knowing what awaits for me or what does not, whilst time is passing and I didn't do anything because life itself didn't let me, nor it let me feel peace, nor it gave me any hope to be alright.

I don't want to laugh, nor I want to cry... I don't want to feel, as my persistent feeling is a load of sorrow, but one feels if one's alive... I wish I was never born. Never born in this erroneous world which separates me from the rest I crave... Will I die soon? How much time left I have? If this is how it'll be, let it be fast and in this moment as this pain kills me very slowly. Maybe this wish is of life and not of death, but I'm sure that I won't ever live, as this is mere suffering. I'd call this: to die in life.

Maybe my soul's illness is provoked by a deep melancholy or by an unbearable loneliness... I can cause a lot of pain but I consider everyone else is a pain for me; I'd never commit suicide because life is the only thing I have... If someone else had my eyes, he would be able to see that the world is the real hell. But I'm not prepared to die as there's a vast array of things that have to be done first. In a paradoxical way I think the world is perfect as suffering exists and suffering one feels. Its wrong to not feel anything, ever, to be like a rock waiting for time to deform it, to erode it. Everything that can be lived is disorder, that's why everything and everyone is changing, always, if it wasn't like this there wouldn't be capacity to think or to even take decisions unconsciously. This is the divine chaos, sensations and moments, illusions that die as time passes. Could it be that my presence in this world is necessary? I believe not.

When has being alive been so significant to avoid sinking in failure? Precisely this spawns a feel of anguish so big to the point of attacking one's own life; this is the true hopelessness.
In the end of the rainbow there's a chest, a chest filled with sorrow. Anyhow, what's the meaning of hope? Is there really something so beautiful? Of one thing I'm confident though, hopelessness is in reality the key to find a hope: the desire of suiciding.

Life, insignificant enigma, why do I possess you? End now! I don't want to be alive, lost in this labyrinth of sick hopelessness. I'm in the border of refuting my own argument of avoiding suiciding. Would it be best to let life be fulfilled without my presence, and prescind from it? Either way, I won't let life end me. I will end it myself.
Track Name: Eutanasia Para la Patética Humanidad
Eutanasia para la Patética Humanidad

Algúna vez el amor estúvo presente, ahora la desolación nunca está ausente; en verdad pensé que la melancolía era mi amor en la vida, mas la angustia me confesó desear ser mi fiel prometida.

La perdición es mi cuna, la penuria mi comodidad, el desánimo mi refugio y la agonia me da prosperidad. Cuán hermosa seria la vida si el sufrimiento no existiera mas cuán hermoso es sufrir a causa de la misma vida...

Memorias nostálgicas ofrecen sus intolerables condolencias, es doloroso cada vez que sus tétricos recuerdos visitan, la profundidad de estas heridas las hacen imposibles de cicatrizar, a pesar de eso, el hecho de poder sentirlas me otorga una gran satisfacción.

Si hubiera un horizonte donde la luz fuera el mundo y un abismo donde la opacidad imposibilitara ver, preferiría pasarme la vida dentro de este y ser ciego para preservar mis ojos de percatarse de la cruel realidad.

La ilusión conlleva a la destrucción, al fracaso, la consecuencia de experimentar la injusticia de la vida. La decepción es el invasor y la alegría el invadido, la futilidad es necesaria para progresar, la vida es vil paradoja.

Es difícil pensar como seria vivir en la calidez de la consolación, al imaginar, uno se da cuenta de que los sueños son siempre bellos ya que distraen de la realidad, si no, sólo serian vacuas fantasías. Si sólo valiera la pena estar despierto para vivirlas...

Tal vez no merezco ser feliz... Quizá la felicidad no me acepte de nuevo entre su dulce manto pues la amargura es rechazada por su esencia y mi corazón duerme con ella. Represento lágrimas nunca lloradas, llantos que nunca fueron lamentados, el despojo de la significancia y la venial contraproducencia...

Una vida mas perdida en la miseria, un camino mas conduciendo hacia la desgracia, un anacoreta mas, consumido en represión por la tragedia, una eutanasia mas, que trajo alivio a la patética humanidad.

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Euthanasia for the Pathetic Humanity

There was a time when love was present, now desolation is never absent; I really thought that melancholy was the love of my life, but anguish confessed to me the wish of being my loyal fiancée.

Perdition is my cradle, penury is my comfort, despondency is my refuge and agony provides me prosperity. How beautiful would life be if suffering didn't exist but how beautiful is to suffer due to life itself...

Nostalgic memories offer me their distressful condolences, its painful every time that their dismal remembrances visit, the depth of these injuries makes them impossible to heal, nevertheless, the fact of being able to feel them grants me a great satisfaction.

If there was a horizon where the light was the world and an abyss where the opacity prevented all sight, I'd prefer to spend life inside the latter and stay blind to preserve my eyes of realizing the cruel reality.

Illusion leads to destruction, to failure, the consequence of experimenting the unfairness of life. Deception is the invader and joy is the invaded, futility is necessary to progress, life is vile paradox.

Its hard to think how it would be to live in the warmth of consolation, imagining, one realizes that dreams are always beautiful as they distract from reality, if not, they'd just be vacuous fantasies. If only it was worth to be awake to live them...

Maybe I don't deserve to be happy... Maybe happiness won't accept me again on it's sweet mantle as bitterness is rejected by it's essence and my heart sleeps with it. I represent tears never shed, cries that were never lamented, the dispossession of significance and the venial counter-productiveness...

One more life lost in misery, one more path leading towards misfortune, one more hermit, consumed in repression by the tragedy, one more euthanasia, that brought relief to the pathetic humanity.