That's the thing about obsessions and addictions; they're really only interesting to the addict. A penultimate muse but a closed system, those heady cycles within dizzying cycles. I accepted the invitations but gave up playing hostess to be a mere guest at the most consuming story of my life with its powerful buffet of delights and horrors. Embraced the vortex and fed on the poison for years, discovering depraved facets of myself I never knew myself capable of being. It is time to relinquish the story, return it to The Fates and let others taste its venom. It never belonged to me anyway.
I can hear them, these other voices, other muses clamoring for attention. They scratch at the door and whisper in a forgotten third floor attic. At first glance, perhaps not as unfathomable or inspiring in depth but they might make me a more interesting person in the end. How would I know? I've never really given them much of a glance. So alright, I concede... begrudgingly and acknowledge I was only ever fighting with myself.
I was crooning along with Low Lays the Devil but then as my easy listening Saturday took on a life of its own clutched The Veils ever more tightly and here we are. Other than Bjork, it is Finn Andrew's / The Veils lyrics that resonate with my deep places.
But I threw in some other devilish delights to tickle your palate.
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