the wolf, fever ray | hey i don’t know, kongos | bad moon rising, mourning ritual | search and destroy, 30 seconds to mars | anywhere on this road, lhasa de sela | bartholomew, the silent comedy | nuclear, mike oldfield | empire, alpines | woman king, iron and wine
chaos is rejecting all you have ever learned. chaos is being yourself.
Is it better to remember your sins, or to forsake them entirely?
To be bereft of memory...am I nothing more than experience?
Pantheon: An Infamous AU fanmix.
An Infamous Conduit AU that’s being written as a group project.
Six years after going into hiding, four teams from “The Pantheon”, teams Epsilon, Theta, Rho, and Delta; reunite in order to stop a powerful Conduit and his mission to eradicate all other Conduits.
Made by members of the Taffers’ Tavern.
co-author and cover image credit: zovii
co-author credit: ashertonshadow
Tracklist:
054/365 - great escape (by ESPRIT CONFUS)
I wear my loneliness like a jackknife moon.
Chase boys like rivers chase rivers.
Pray at dawn over black coffee for the kind of courage that always eludes me,
the kind of courage that would make me ask a man to stay for the morning
instead of a night in bed.
Replace all the feathers in my down pillows
with strands of lovers’ hair.
I am a revolving door with no idea
which way I need to turn in order to survive.
Gotta body that hurts under the right weather, voice like rain,
tongue like a letter opener that cuts deep.
Made of skin with blood like language.
Boys. They open their wallets for me
when all I want is their open hearts.
Inside last year’s apartment is a dozen porcelain bowls
all filled with a tea bag each.
They sit there, they steep, month after month.
And with them I put my pulse on repeat.
Boys. They’re bitter like tea, sweet like jalapenos,
I eat fire, I spit flames.
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire (via mirroir)
(by TheFoxAndTheRaven)
You know better than to go near that house, boy. There’s witches there that’ll trap your soul in a mason jar and ghosts that’ll push you down stairs if you’re lucky, and claw your skin off if you’re not. What little comes outta that place aint never been good news. Ask your mother about it sometime.
cleaning out my folders: a haunting
