Santeria strikes and feasting mites, the girls fell asleep through their indigo nights. For adventures they’d pray as their dark curls lay to rest upon pillows fashioned from hay. Linking their worlds in shimmers of alizarin, as each iridescent molecule danced along with notes of tinariwen. On the hacienda they’d fear the rooster’s morning call, for it was their dreams where they found their very own arsenal. With weapons to battle the war that raged on in the sun, but for the others, they know no cruz de caravaca could save those responsible of the evil that had been spun.
…FatherDoug… 2 days ago. And I guess we broke up. And we were together for 2 years. And those two years were the roughest committed relationship of my life.
I’m only 22, so I know that I will go through rougher breakups, but, in some form or another, this is akin to having a committed relationship with 4 to 6 boys at one time and then all the hard work, tears, and love of 2 years is gone. Real blood, sweat and tears, baby, our shows got pretty gnarly rageface wild:) Also, I really do feel like my lyrics and melodies are like little creation babies that have been ripped from my womb and I’ll never see them again. Yes, this is dramatic, but I am sensitive and that is how I feel.
So, this is me being present with my feelings about the subject, so that I may begin to come to terms with a very difficult reality.
Check out our EP and other stuff… If you are a musician and would like to work with me let me know. I would love to have music project stops guide my journey when I take off next year.
SINCERELY PARAGON. PARADOXICALLY LEWD, AND that’s a lie, HOWEVER, IT SURE AS HELL AIN’T THE TRUTH. AN UNWANTED CYNIC. RAPTURE BURSTS THROUGH. TERSE galaXIES IN GHOSTS. HER WITCH’S DEFT HAZEL, WAS DecieveD wiTh A boasT. IN A LOVER’S FINE TUNING, WHISPERED HER AWAY, AND THEN LEFT HER TO SUFFER, IN THE FLOWERS OF MAYDAY. AND UNconquerED WERE THE MAGGOTS DROWNING IN LOVE. WHERE HER TRUTH BENT TO LIES, WITHOUT THE PARADOXICAL CRUD. fuckThaTcrud. IT’S HOME WAS SWIFTLY WROUGHT. WITH WROUGHTIRON TETHERS AND POISONOUS ROSEBUD*SHIPWRECKED OUT ON THE OHIO, SITTING IN A WALL OF GLASS, TELLIN’ ME TO TAKE IT EASY BUT I TOOK A PHOTOGRAPH, SOMETHING THAT I Can’t Remember, but she’s still sinking with me.