Just an Anchor on My Heart

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Close your eyes and bow your head
I need a little sympathy
'Cause fear is strong and love's for everyone
Who isn't me
Kill your health and kill yourself
And kill everything you love
And if you live you can fall to pieces
And suffer with my ghost 
I shot my love today would you cry for me?
I lost my head again would you lie for me?
I left her in the sand just a burden in my hand
I lost my head again would you cry for me 
Just a burden in my hand
Just an anchor on my heart
Just a tumor in my head
And I'm in the dark 
So follow me into the desert
As desperate as you are
Where the moon is glued to a picture of heaven
And all the little pigs have God 
Oh no there she goes
Out in the sunshine the sun is mine
The sun is mine - Soundgarden


Once I returned from New York I was surprised to see that The Virgin Suicides were gaining a larger cult following. They were going to be doing some joint concerts with another thrash metal band in the surrounding area, Slayer, in an attempt to lower the costs of setting up gigs and what not. Apparently her along with the guys from Slayer got along rather swell. It was at the point where they would frequently hang out with each other outside of the concerts. At times Rita would be sitting around messing with his bass telling him what to do, and mentoring him on how to make his music more 'brutal' sounding. To be honest it was funny seeing such a freakin large tall guy that practically towers over her taking music lessons and advice from a girl that couldn't have been taller than 5'6.

I never really went to any of their concerts or witnessed them interact when they were performing. But I knew that Slayer, Tom especially, definitely learned from her how to really 'rile up a crowd' I guess. "This sorta became a staple of her shows." I stated. I held my right arm forward and rolled up my sleeve. "She would take a razor or a small knife and cut downwards into her skin." I stated making a repeated the motion towards the camera. Then Tom for a while would do something similar to that while on stage until a fan threw something at him.

"But Rita was never compromising when it came to her shows. What you saw was what you got. She wouldn't change it if her life depended on it." 

When she was up on stage I thought she was a completely different person. She wasn't like anything I saw  from her before. She was dare I say it, outgoing. She was uncompromising before, but she was ferocious on stage. Yet, off stage she was so small and quiet. It was almost as if she was repressing herself, and I never understood why. She was a nice girl. Almost everyone liked hanging out with her despite how indifferent she could be, but no one really minded it or cared even.  It was just like looking at a polar opposite. One side was practically invisible, yet when on stage she was monstrous. The center of the stage was where she lived, and never rested. "She looked and acted immortal." I concluded staring into the camera.

 "CUT!" The producer yelled, and told me it was a good day's work and to leave and get some rest. However as I gazed back towards the set where I had recently sat of all people that showed up Fenriz was there. I never really knew that much about the whole black metal scene outside maybe Venom and Merciful Fate and the like. But Rita knew everything about it. I guess you should when you are apart of the genre, but nonetheless she was deeply submerged within the whole scene back in the eighties and nineties. This is not to say that she ever burned a church down, but she has engaged with some people in some activities that are objectionable to say the least. 

Fenriz was a guy a few years younger than myself who made a band in Oslo and would constantly keep in contact with Rita and Lilly. Whenever, they would tour over there she would have them or some other band headline for them. He seemed like a decent guy in the few times I have spoken to him, but in all of the conversations that we had he would never bring her up, at least not in a direct way. It seemed that it pained him to bring her up, but can I really blame him? Everyone that knew her didn't want to speak her name out loud. It was like it would disrespect her or something.

He was lazily and nonchalantly greeting the producers and trying to act as sociable as possible when he noticed me sitting around in the background.  "Oh hey it's you." He greeted sounding somewhat lighthearted about the whole ordeal.

"Yeah, yeah. So how have you been man?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I've just been doing the same thing I've always been doing I guess." He shrugged.

"Oh well that's great. How would you like for us to hang out after this set is done? What do you say?" I transitioned awkwardly.

He looked at me oddly before shrugging once more. "I'll be in the states for the next month and a half so sure why not."

I thanked him then waited out of sight for him to finish his portion of the interview.

He was asked about what Rita was like. A generic question sure, but what followed was almost heartbreaking.

"Rita..." He trailed off. "Rita was a sister to me. Everyone knew her name back in Olso. A lot of us have personally knew her because of either her touring over there or just hanging out in Euronymous' record store. She was really friendly but wasn't very talkative. She was so reserved and soft spoken that despite most of us being younger than her we often overshadowed her in a room." He chuckled.

"I've heard that Rita like contemporary art." The producer prompted him to say more.

"Yeah. When I was younger I was very conservative and would look at something like This Is Not a Pipe and say, 'What the hell was that?' But one day while she was recording an album up there she showed me some of her artwork. They were all so mystifying yet dreary looking. They all looked like they came out of some century within medieval times Yet, they were all so vindictive. Even in some of her more lighthearted works they all seemed to have some bleak undertone expressing an overwhelming amount of violence or woefulness. It was all so mortifying in a way that it left a pit at the bottom of anyone's stomach. She'd always claim it was to honor an author she liked, but she'd never disclose a name."

My eyes widen at the last part as I caught on that it was the very same author that wrote the book that she'd adore so much, No Longer Human.

The truth was always lying down there somewhere. I just have to seek it out. She killed herself in an attempt to not live with herself. When she shot herself she simultaneously shot my love that day. I lost my head and myself again today, won't somebody cry for me? There she goes again. Just as I get closer to her she walks straight away. I was desperate now.  She was just a burden in my hand, just a tumor in my head, and I'm in the dark. But then I remembered love was for everyone who wasn't me.

I stood up from the chair about to leave the studio to wait in my car when I heard Fenriz softly in an almost cracked and broken down voice state, "She was just an anchor on my heart."



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