Unipolar Tales: Memories of an Unquiet Mind

By Sam Firth

This debut work from Sam Firth was written as an accompanying text to the debut album 'Unipolar Tales' (2021). (Also by the author). It is a collection of lyrics, poems, 'thoughts', essays and photos. The book goes into further details about the intent behind each song in the album as well as expanding further upon the authors' process of dealing with mental health issues.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sam Firth
• Release date: May 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005890148

Sam Firth

Sam Firth is a contemporary singer-songwriter focused on storytelling with a highly conversational and introspective lyrical style. His live performances are well known for their emotional honesty and a must see.

Book preview

Preface

Please read this before continuing.

In the name of safety and for the comfort for those who want to read this work I have marked some chapters with an asterisk in the contents page (*).

These sections contain discourse that some will not want to engage with.

At the start of each of these sections there is a more precise disclaimer regarding the nature of the discourse so that you may make as informed a decision as possible.

I do not wish these words to cause any harm.

I have ached over word choices yet there are some things that cannot and should not be disguised or skirted around.

Please take care.

Foreword

At the heart of it, this work is selfish and self-centred.

My hope is that by pushing my introspections outwards,

I might get some peace from them.

Placing the ephemeral self onto paper has a funny way of making it understandable.

That which I can understand I can cope with,

or at the very least, cope better with.

I hope you find something in these words

They are not all I have,

but they are truly very dear to me.

I have held onto them for such a long time

I think I have stunted them for myself.

Hopefully they will thrive in the new pastures of another mind.

First Thought

I know what I want from life,

at least I have an idea.

My issue isn’t really even that others will not like what I do.

(Though that is a vital necessity for my dreams to be realised)

My true fear is that I will get it all.

I will realise the internal fantasy into reality and still feel the same as I do now.

That it will not help

That I will not be content.

Song 1: Unipolar Tales

Verse 1:

I’ve got something to say

The words don’t come out

‘Cause I’m afraid

To break the silence

Over my small thoughts

So, I’ll pretend I forgot

Pre-chorus 1:

For when I say exactly

What’s on my mind

People don’t have time

But I found with melody

It’s alright somehow

Chorus:

I don’t want you to save me

It’s not why I write these words

I just want my unipolar tales to be heard

Verse 2:

And I feel so doe-hearted

My legs tremble at the thought

Of what people

Will think of me

So, these lights became

Somewhere I could breathe

Pre-chorus 2:

Then I bruise pages

With black and blue lines

Telling stories that I

Can’t say out loud

But with melody

It’s alright somehow

Bridge:

Oh, this is just my side

Of the conversation

You finish it with your ears

Just by being here

Chorus:

I don’t want you to save me

It’s not why I write these words

I just want my unipolar tales to be heard

This song wasn’t the first written for the album, but writing it was the point of generation for the album as a whole concept.

‘A collection of stories that would highlight and explore my personal experience of mental health struggles.’

The concept developed further but the core has always remained the same. ‘Unipolar Tales’ is intended as the ‘explanation song’ for the album.

The lyrics flow between three different focuses. The first, (the verses), describes aspects of my symptoms, focusing on my anxiety to express my thoughts to others:

"I feel so doe-hearted, my legs tremble at the thought of what people will think of me"

The second, (the pre-choruses), explains how I realised that when people discuss their issues (whether related to mental health or not) in a song, it somehow becomes more socially acceptable:

"With melody, it’s alright somehow"

I couldn’t imagine laying my true thoughts on the table to someone in a conversation, but with a song, I can hide in plain sight behind a melody and a guitar and still feel as if I have expressed myself.

The third (the chorus) states my intention. This isn’t a way for me to ask for help. I don’t want you to comfort me. I just want to tell my tales. I just want to be heard.

The bridge section attempts to explain that an audience listening to these songs is what allows me to feel catharsis. Having people listen makes me feel like they might understand and accept what I am saying. (Of course, they might not, but their silence weaves the illusion on my behalf).

I think that the core of each of these songs is simple. The English teachers of the world stress that in everything there are always a million side interpretations that stem and blossom into theories and ideas of their own. Perhaps that holds true for these words as well.

Second Thought

Each day a page,

Some dog-eared and creased,

Lingered over in quiet nights.

Some have faded ink

Etched on brittle yellowed leaves.

Some filled with crossings and scribbled lines,

Stories retold at every telling.

I wonder

Is there a library my book will be placed in once it is full-grown?

Will its’ spine be creased or left alone?

I’m not sure it matters.

I just hope,

Sitting between its’ covers,

There’re a few good stories.

The land imitates the volcanos that created it - Taken by James Chisholm

Childhood

I’ve always wanted to look back and find the moments that have made a difference. The flap of a wing that caused the ripples in the present. There must be those moments, right? With enough thought and information surely, you can find the important moment that defines who you become.

Maybe it’s a range of moments, each adding momentum to the crashing of the present wave? This search has been a struggle. My memory has many blank pages. Perhaps I have spent a great deal of time with my eyes closed?

My memories seem harder to recall than I feel they should. They are abstract concepts, stories of another person, a line of words on a page that I read a long time ago and have since lost my place. Forgotten the book exists entirely in some cases. I want to know where the road