A Passion Automatic

I love parentheses, ellipses, wardrobe crises and other things that end in -ses. Listen to me blab about whatever it is I'm blabbing about in the A.M.

So far, I am one-quarter of The Poor Souls of Pompeii, and I will also be releasing material under the moniker of "A Passion Automatic". Soon.
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Kayo Dot

Like A Kiss, soft, and wild,
with the delicate steps of petals
fallen into a stream

This swirling ballerina turns
in faint and sighing grandeur
across the floor to me

A monarch plays the violin to a summer’s afternoon

Whilst quietly, the earthworm adores the soil
in winter’s sparkling gloom.

It breaks away, growing, as the flowers do.

A Thunderhead embraces his enraptured lover,

And kisses with a gale that also makes the cattails shudder.

His tears cannot, as he proclaims his love,
be held with lightning back.

They fondly dance into an open window

And fondly dance with mine.

Our eyelashes weaken with a weight that is sweet and fine

And this feels like frogs and spiders in the sweet outside.

Tell me why world, unfathomable and good…

The beauty of everything is infinite and cruel.

An aeroplane, a puppet, an orange, a spoon.

a window, and outside… stars and the moon…

Lattoo, my new music project.

I don’t want to kiss you, or fuck you,
or love you, either.
Only one of those things I never had choice of,
until I asked about choice.
I only want to undo the loop
that drew us to this, so that I could know earlier
that we were always divided.
Sink your thumb out of the gouge of my eye,
I put it there, I put it there.
Go back in time, find a child,
get down, sit on your haunches
and tell me, tell me
it isn’t my fault for trying -
some sorts of apathy, crystallized between kin,
are just insurmountable.
“We were too different - “
Don’t, no more lies -
say truths, final truths - insoluble truths,
Truths that do not win wars,
but break them.
Go back, find me, clip my heart.
Sink your thumb into the gouge of my eye five,
ten, fifteen years earlier.
Break my heart sooner, so I do not have to
reforge myself everyday in the hunkering down
of the sun when it slashes the day from the night.
The wax cooling between ribs, the molten vertebrae,
wick waning, stuttering like the sound of your name.
Say before now what you have in selfishness
never said,
brutal mercy, “I wanted to be loved,
just not by you.”
In the textbooks the heart is muscle and organ both,
all children deserve to know sooner
when they are making music for the deaf.

I think I’ve gotten myself into a very expensive and time consuming addiction. This pedal chain is still a fledgling. Need a line selector, a (couple of) line6 DL-4(s), a nice reverb, a volume pedal, a compressor and a noise reducer. Current setup: tu-2 into MXR boost/overdrive, into a ProCo RAT, a DS-1, DD-3, all going into a tc electronics ditto looper. Huzzah. #guitar #gear

elephantsandmangoes:

Everyone asks me about my “long distance relationship.” You see, my husband (and my partner for 8 years) lives in Texas. I, however, live in New York. I used to live in Texas, but had to move for graduate studies. We are both immigrants and have applied for green cards (he was lucky enough to…

I wish her and her partner the best.

2,019 plays
Circa Survive,
On Letting Go

zplace:

You’ll keep it on the inside
Cause that’s the safest place
That’s the safest place to hide 

You were barely holding on.

(via zplaceee)

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. a state of exhaustion with how shitty people can be to each other, typically causing a countervailing sense of affection for things that are sincere but not judgmental, are unabashedly joyful, or just are.

Sometimes I forget Tumblr exists. Alas, NYC beckons.

I will meet you

at the intersection
of cynicism,
pragmatism, 
and realism. 

Or, at least, 
I will try to, 
if it is practicable, 
if such a place 
even exists 
in the first place.