Dear Diary I Seem To Be Dead
Dear Diary I Seem To Be Dead
Orgin New Orleans
Genres Screamo
Years Active 2000-2002
Country of origin United States of America
Labels unsigned
Associated Acts Subservient Fuck, Thou, Chopsley II, Path of Daggers Crown of Swords, Eat a Bag of Dicks, Chopsley I, Morality Dictates, Not From China
Official website

We broke up. Thanks to everyone who supported us.


Bryan Funck


[ten] | cd

"When I closed my eyes. I could barely see the light. I felt out to the edge of the track. First off, to the left. Then to the right. Why take a chance? Why risk surviving this crash? I could feel it in my feet. Then in the knees. Then in the stomach. I think I hearscreeching and blowing. My eyes failscreeching and blowing. And force themselves openscreeching and blowing. Why take a chance? Why risk surviving this crash? I think the engine said, I think the engine said. I think I made that up. I think I made that up. We are animals, driven by desires. We are consumed, buying their picture of happiness. We deal in lives, trading people like things. We are machines, turning emotions off and on like a switch. And when I close my eyes, I can barely see the light. Feel out into darkness: nothingnothing. There is no one to catch me: just me—just me. And somehow this feels right. This is a break from relentless give and take. This is a break, a chance to move on. This is a time of silence, of silence and peace. Alone inside my head."


[nine] | cd

"I have animated this corpse. I have put into motion that which has not the will to rise. I have taken despair and frustration and terror and used them to fuel action. Independent and drivenyet needing contact for stability and contentment. Sulking in past mistakes, brooding over yesterday's happiness, searching for the key to tomorrowthe answer to right now. But my body won't stop shaking and my eyes can't stay focused. Has decay set in?"


[eight] | cd

"I tried to reach you from the blindside. I tried to teach you, at least inside. Returned from hell with head in hands; paid off debt with both left hands. Cry me blood, wept you hatred. Exhaled life, exhausted waves. It's the way I walked, the way I diedmoving to the center. As I lived the last day of my lifemoving to the center. Through stagnance and subsidence, the cleaning consumes me. Through persistence and violence, the floodland consumes me. Through stagnance and violence, the floodland consumes me. Through persistence and subsidence, the cleansing consumes me. Red star overhead burns me bright—not to give up. And as I explain it to myself, I lost sense of disbelief. I couldn't reach you… And all I do is hurt in the end. Here is my best effort to you. It's the last great thing that I do. Here is my best effort to you. I couldn't reach you. I always said I'd make my own end"


[seven] | cd

"Blood has been spilt. Now plans are being laid. The attack is being outlined. We are marching to war. And we have got to stick together against our common foes. They're lurking on our streets, hiding in plain sight. Oil has been spilt. Now agendas are being made. Clandestine attackswe are marching to war. And we have got to stick together against our common foes. They dwell on our fears, twisting our hearts. Yes, there are sides: there is a right, and there is a wrong. And those vengeful puppetsthose vengeful puppets—might as well be digging our graves as they dig their own. We are marching to war. We're buying their war."


[six] | cd

“Maybe I forgot to tell you how you made me laugh. And maybe I forgot to tell you, how you made me… I drank in inspiration It filled me It pushed me How it pushed me. How it moved me. And maybe you didn't notice how a smile or a nod filled me with elation How it moved me. But nothing lasts forever, and the world is pulled from our feet. And sometimes it's hard. It’s hard not to feel betrayed by your absence, by your resignation. And it's hard not to think that you some how gave up, gave up on what we believed. But nothing lasts forever. And after all is done and we're still alone, I won't be taken And now it's almost impossible to look on the past without being touched by regret. But I'll learn from my mistakes. And I'll learn from your mistakes. And move forward as you pushed me—as you moved me.”


[five] | cd /demo

“Now you have touched the women. Now you have struck a rock. A boulder you've dislodged. You will be crushed. Soonyou will realize that you dance upon the tip of a blade; and the comedy you've made of violence and of rape, the war you've declared on our mothers and sisters, our partners and friendsit's come right back, right back to you doorstep. It's come right back, right back in your face. As you crawl to your hole licking your wounds, your uncompassionate mind will know their pain. You’ll know their pain. Know their pain. If only it were easier to brush away the malignance that you sell, that you sell. Your argument is already written, but those bound and gagged now move and speak. We move and speak. Now you have touched the women. Now you have struck a rock. A boulder you've dislodged. You will be crushed. You'll be crushed.”

The bookends of this song are from a 1950s South African freedom song.


[four] | demo

“Three days forever… Etched upon my mind forever: three days maybe more. We left you—abandoned. The talking didn't work now let's try this. The pills didn't work now let's try this. Too late. Too late. You're gone. We're dead Come back. It’s too late.


[three] | demo

“In the second you gave up. In the second you walked away. In the second I wasn’t worth your time. In the second you walked away. In the second you gave up, the moment you lost interestbonds that have taken years to build… Interest lost but for a momenta moment I'll remember forever. Knowing what you’ll say… Knowing what comes next. Knowing what you'll say before the words escape your lips I'm lost, I'm lost. Look what you've done, the giant has fallen—broken to pieces, watch as I crumble Crying, hopeless, crying… Look what you've done to me. Watch as I fall apart Look what you've done. Feel my world fall apart. Crying and hopless, broken and bleeding.”


[two] | demo

“The monkeys are loose, but they can't be. Animals wouldn't organize to attack and to abuse. We created this forum to express, to relieve, and to celebrate—for fun. But they're wearing us down. One by one, they'll wear us down. One by one, they'll make us quit. One by one, they'll make us leave. They'll make us believe this is how it goes. We'll run. We've tried to ignore them And we've tried to talk But the time will come when we'll have to take action In silence, we will strike.”


[one] | demo

“When did this become about fashion? Remember to dress for successmusic a thing to be bought and be sold, a badge you can wear on your chest. When did this become about dating? Who do you try to impress? Who's cool, who's hot, who's hip, who's nottell me who loves you the best. When did this become about handouts? When did you need something free? You act and you talk like you've got something to give. You think you have something we need. But you do nothing. When did we need invitations, an audience, or a request. Sitting, waiting, always to settle for less. You want this handed on a silver plate, but would that be worth anything? Are we worth anything? Are you worth anything? Listen, get up, go out, do something for yourself.”



"Nine years into the futurewe're still counting the dead and the dying. We're still totaling countless hidden millions; the result of state terror. Still believing the lies of peace and prosperity: of a peace with thousands executed by disease, of a prosperity of millions on the street. And I have to wonder, what the fuck is it going to take? Can it be undone? Can we stem the tide of violence? Or are we going to sit back and relax and watch tv while havenots get their fucking heads kicked in over and over and over again. Are we going to keep counting the policies that failed? The liesthey worked, it worked, it worked, it worked. We swallowed them down deep. We swallowed them whole. Nine years later…"

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