From the thumper to the drinker, 
The cradle to the angel 
I’ll be looking over you 
Pass me up or lay me down 
Once I wanted an explanation 
But now I’d settle for just a sound 

What’s the name they call ones like us: 
A bouquet of shadows in the evening sun 
I sat up late and watched you sleep 
And you said you’d waited thirty years for me 
Another painter-over hardwood floor 
And off the hallway, dear, another trail of tears 
Out past the couple, and onto the street 
I emptied my flask out at your feet 

Austin are you calling 
Atlanta are you there 
Eupora are you dreaming 
That you saw my darling dear

This was the first song that came on when I slipped my headphones on as we left Chicago. Shit’s real.

(Source: Spotify)

David Yow sang “Glamorous” with Girls Against Boys in Vienna.

New Rale shit, “Probability A” excerpt

This track will be included on a split cassette I’m doing with Dealing for Ascetic House. Four tracks from myself and 1 long burner from Dealing.

Here’s a big portion of the last (and maybe best? certainly most personal) Sad-Ass Music article I wrote for Vice. It never got published. This is a large chunk, but there was a lot more shit. I didn’t wanna post all of it. To post the rest really dates it and makes it even more personal, and fuck that.

This is just a part of it… I didn’t want it to entirely go to waste…

“Soon my roommates returned home, to find me staring into space in the kitchen. They laughed as remarkably sad music poured from two separate rooms in our house. I have to admit, I see the humor in that. Shit. It’s golden. However, I think there was some very real concern towards me that night. But I’ll say this – I was totally safe. I’m always safe. I’m weird, sure, strange as shit – I know that, but I’m not reckless. I let my depression put me down into the dirt, I let it lay me out for hours, sometimes days, at a time, but I always find my way back.

Those days have passed, but there’s still some gross residual slime I’m trying to polish off my melon. Some days are better than others. Some nights are the worst. I wouldn’t change this situation. Sometimes, you just have to feel the pain. I’ve already talked about that. I can tell you the past two weeks, three weeks, month, whatever – life hasn’t been perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. Things have been tough, not just for me, for practically everyone I know, for various reasons, some far more immense than others. Life is always throwing things at us that are completely out of our control; that’s the nature of the universe. It’s just that there are times when it gets really dismal… You have to stop, look around and realize, you’re going to make it though this too. Sometimes people aren’t strong enough to see that. I’m not one to fault these people, and I would never call them weak. We can only persist and take what we personally find manageable.

The world can be a brutal motherfucker and that urge to give in can get really oppressive. I can’t give in, though. It’s not an option, never has been. I feel love too strongly, even through those barest, chilliest nights when everything seems completely fucked, lost, or broken. I think there’s too much real light in the world, and yeah, fuck, sometimes you have to crawl on your knees through the black sludge to find it. I’m not trying to wax poetic or get an A in my philosophy class. I honestly don’t even know what the hell I’m talking about. I just know that: somewhere love is enough. I think. I know? I think I know that. Goddamnit.

So, yeah… There’s been some brutal days, and there’ll be many more. I’ve had music there to help me both loathe more painfully and also to recover more swiftly. Given, I don’t think I’ll ever recover. Is that even possible, to eradicate the darkness? If we could, would we really want to? Could we handle all the sweetness with no sour? I don’t think I could, personally. I’ve built so much of my entire persona through terrible experiences. I think it’s a growing process. I think a major function of humankind is just to learn to cope and maneuver through it all; good and bad. Maybe I’m talking in circles.“ 

Things didn’t get better… Not entirely. In a lot of ways, they got worse. I lost friends. My dad died. I lost a job. I freaked out. I cried. I laughed. I went to Florida. I went to Chicago. I managed to finish recording an album that’s been breaking my heart for a year. There were incremental ups and downs — like always. Some felt and still feel like they’ll last me the rest of my life… Some probably will.

I feel like a ghost.

(Source: twitter.com)

A handful of songs enjoyed on the ride back to Arkansas from Chicago. Post-travel blues: that old, mysterious, sour, broken heart. Got home, stepped onto the pavement feeling even more like a ghost than before I left… but hey, at least I saw Wolf Eyes get primal.

(Source: Spotify)

(Source: otomesuicide)

(Source: liketearsinraintimetodie)

Hey, I’m home.

(Source: Spotify)

via Internet K-Hole