“No Hard Feelings” by Murderwords 2024

Well life’s a bitch, and then you die
If doesn’t matter how you try
And in your end of days and all the different ways you tried it still don’t justify
The reasons why it simply satisfied the damned means to an end

Thought you were my lover, thought you were my friend when you pretended you were not above me, didn’t love me, nothing to defend

A hardened heart all of my own
You cannot squeeze blood from a stone
‘Cuz broken bones from stick and stones and scars will never heal the same way as before
I am a glutton for my punishment, I can always take some more

If I can still can be your lover, can still be your friend, when you pretended you were not above me, didn’t love me, nothing to defend, relentlessly you haunt me, all in time that I’ve come to resent, you are the name of all my shame and all this god damned toxic sentiment 

No hard feelings

All is fair and love and war, but in the end, you know you’re such a fucking whore
Tried to adore you, I abhor you, there is nothing more
Picked up all the pieces of my broken heart and showed myself the door that closes when another opens 
Now your ceiling is my floor

No hard feelings, but that was low, even for you

"No Hard Feelings"

Patient Name: Alan Kelly
Alias: “Murderwords”
Clinician: Dr. Scarlett Ruth
Date: 09/08/24
Time: 15:37 PST

This excerpt was my first encounter with a patient named Alan Kelly, whom I took on in 2022, as well as their alter ego persona, one 'Murderwords' who arose in my patient during the mitigation of a nervous breakdown during the events of the global pandemic. Excerpt is audio as follows:

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Words?”
“Please, call me Murderwords.”
“Very well. Tell me about yourself, Murderwords.”

“Okay. Well—

Hi. I am Murderwords, a guy who fell into a paper bag mask one day in a music playing accident involving originality while not maintaining situational awareness around an encroaching technocracy of dystopian malaise. I live on Alan's head. 

I would like to share my music with you, imagine that, in the hopes that you might do all those things we need you to do on platforms to keep me going—the sharing, and the liking, and the signing up.

Please don’t make me say ‘like, share, and subscribe.’

Awww, @&%$!

I am slowly migrating some work over from my low-tech facilities and lower-tech mind into this den of inequity.

If you are an artist or musician who is interested in working with me, please send me a message.

Remember kids:
We are not the product. They are.
And we are not content.”

Alan Kelly presents with complex post-traumatic stress disorder rooted in a difficult childhood, and the emergence of the Murderwords persona that arose during the pandemic marks a profound turning point in his life. Murderwords is more than a mask—he is Alan’s inner child given form, a fierce and raw expression of resilience born from pain.

As his therapist, I find this phenomenon both compelling and deeply human: here is a man channeling his trauma into an artistic rebellion against the oppressive forces of the music industry and media censorship. Murderwords is Alan’s way of fighting back, reclaiming control through creativity amid a nervous breakdown.

It’s a fragile balance—this shadow work performed in public—but one I am fascinated by and fully invested in helping him navigate. There is power in this persona, and I believe it carries the potential not only for Alan’s survival but for a bold, authentic voice in today’s fractured cultural landscape, though I reserve my concerns that the mask might eat the man if Alan is not careful.

This is Doctor Scarlett Ruth,
uh, oh nine oh eight of twenty-five at... fifteen thirty-seven hours.

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