“Home” is a concept album about accepting the natural state of things, and listening to one’s senses, against the temptations, the glowing lights, and the vortex that we have come to call modern life. Only when one finds where they comfortably fit within themselves, does one be at home.
Made with a lot of struggle, emotion, and the secret ingredient: love, for the heights the elevated human soul can reach.
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The Dream
Complete stillness. As if the world had been asleep and was about to wake up. First came the light, then the colors. Trees sprung into life. And rivers flowed. And everything the light touched sang, and the world become a choir. In the middle of it all, I stood. My eyes wide with awe and disbelief. This sense of unison is overwhelming. This feeling of being complete, and one with all, fills me with immense joy. I look around. And the colors flow around me, flirt with me, and embrace me. I lie down, close my eyes, and join the many. You could almost believe this would last forever. “Would it?”, I think. And in the second the thought rests in my mind. The dream starts collapsing.
The Reality
Gray. Gray is what everything is transforming into. The colors are fading. The light is fading. And a deafening silence rules supreme. I stand up. A gaping hole seems to have manifested in my chest. Was it always there? Even in the dream? The trees are shriveling, dying, shrinking into the black dead soil. The rivers have dried, and all that’s left is ash. Panic. Maybe if I make no sound, this would stop. Despair. Fear. I try to run, but my legs don’t move. Even if they moved, there’s nowhere to run to. Black. Darkness. Nothingness. As I finally give up, and hang my head in defeat. I accept what seems to be the reality. Then, a tear in the fabric of space appears, a black void in contrast to the Gray. A portal to something, and it’s all I have. With steps as heavy as a mountain I inch towards it. I reach out, and it sucks me through.
The Pressure
A weak light allows me to see. A long hallway lies in front. Doors on both sides. Infinite it seems. The hallway is lit by weak white neon lights. “A horror movie cliche”, I start a thought. Yet barely have the time to finish it, or even process the collapsing dream. The lights start exploding. A thunderstorm of glass. The darkness creeps up. I start running. Down the hallway I run. Chasing the weak light. I run. Trying to escape the darkness. I run. None of the doors open. Cheap cliches. Yet, to give in to the fear and to freeze, is certain death to the starving darkness. Run. I’m out of breath. I want to stop. And the darkness is ruthless. My strength runs out. I try a door in despair. And for an unexplainable reason the door opens, and I barely think about it. I open it and jump right through.
The Warmth
Silence. Pure white. I am suspended in the air in a feeling of complete comfort and relief. Hope. As if existence itself has become a pillow on which I rests. Light. Peace. The light goes through the hole in my chest, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Close your eyes. Give yourself up to the light. Deliverance. I seem to float gently in a certain direction. Towards a destination in the whiteness surrounding me. Towards maybe a home. And I don’t resist. I fall asleep feeling as safe as ever. I wake up to a harmony of sounds. Birds. Water flowing. The wind caressing the leaves on the trees. The warmth of the sun on my face. Is it the dream returned? What a relief! All this life and beauty. Could it be that this is where I belong, among the green and the blue? Everything surrounding me is perfect. Except for one thing: the gaping hole in my chest. “I am still missing something”, I think. I am incomplete. I start to search.
The Delirium
Flashing lights passing by. Lonely street signs. A city at night, where no one belongs. Futility. People looking for a higher purpose that is never to be found. And I am lost. It’s been so long ago that I felt connected to something. To keep on looking for what you don’t know is missing, is nothing but futile. The lights pass by. So does time, and so fades my energy. I have become a husk of what I once may have been. And this feeling of being incomplete still is haunting. A dark alley. Alone through the night. The silence, my only friend. Waiting for a dawn that never comes. Build a wall around yourself. Hide your shame. Wear a mask. It’s so damn cold. I grow weary from this struggle, tired from this fight. It’s like I am seeing the world through a keyhole. Never a full picture. Never complete. Never satisfied. “Why did I leave the light behind?”, I wonder. Disillusion. Dissatisfaction. Endless repetition of thoughts. That is my sin. This revelation was what was needed. In the corner of my eye, pops in a shimmer far off in the distance. I look towards it and see a mountain. It seems to tower above existence itself. And at the top of the mountain, shines a light. “The light!”, the memory springs back. The one time when I felt the safest. Maybe to get there, is to find that bliss again?
The Mountain
A blizzard. Thunder. An avalanche. The mountain is unforgiving and ruthless. Looming death at every step. “You are destroyed. You are doomed”, the mountain seemed to shout. Like climbing into a thunderstorm. The darkness is complete. But, the light at the top shines the smallest ray. Enough to see the path. Hope. Almost to the top. So far up, everything feels small against the sky. Strength. The weight of the struggle on your shoulders. The shackles of darkness on your soul. Perseverance. And that damned gaping hole. You should have never left the light. Will. But I am still not beyond saving. The light beckons. It is no longer dark, but the sky towering above is overwhelming. Light. I reach the top, and take the final step.
The Sky
On the peak, a pulsing light is blinding for a second. As my eyes adjust, I see within the light… myself. Sitting, watching the panorama below. As I start to wonder what exactly is happening, I notice. My other self has no hole. My other self is complete. But how? “Sit. Wait. Watch.”, the Other tells me. The panorama is a sea of clouds in the distance. Clouds above and clouds below. Nothing in between the two layers besides the peak we are on and endless blue. “What are we waiting for?”, I wonder but dare not utter the question. After a while, the Other simply points to the horizon.
Home
The sky above is opening up. A hole is formed. And through the hole in the sky rays of light beam and radiate. An immense light emerges from the hole. A sun. The sight is breathtaking, blinding in its beauty. Like a world being birthed. And the light envelopes everything. The warmth! And I finally understand. The light is the hole. There is beauty in all things. As long as one looks for it. As long as one sees it. As long as one accepts it. And allows the light of truth to shine through. Through to ourselves, and to others. The hole is the light. Just the truth, no more, no less. Complete in itself, by virtue of existing and being accepted. The Other, it has disappeared, but it doesn’t matter. The hole is there but it’s of no particular importance. I don’t perceive it any differently. I accept it. The weight is lifted. The hole is me, and I it. The darkness is overcome. I am the light. I am the warmth. I am complete. I am home.