Scott Amus
d e v o n
Not today Justin


祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Love Begins
will byers stan first human second

Janaina Medeiros
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast

Kaledo Art

NASA
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

Product Placement
$LAYYYTER
Sade Olutola
occasionally subtle
almost home
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Italy
seen from Germany

seen from Mexico

seen from Germany
seen from Morocco

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Belarus
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
@americanagothicesque
Scott Amus

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a mix for the ancient bones buried deep in the mud, praise the lord my damned soul to keep || pc to dara scully
[listen here]
FAIRYTALES RE-IMAGINED: Snow White and Rose Red as a Southern Gothic
Their cottage is old and decrepit but Snow-White takes good care of it during the day while Rose-Red stands on the side of the road, peddling roses to anyone who passes by. The two girls loved each other so dearly that they always ran through the woods hand in hand, seeing demons everywhere and fearing none, for they had each other. And when Snow-White said: “we will never desert each other,” Rose-Red answered: “No, not as long as we both shall live.” Whatever one had, she would share with the other. One day, Rose-Red came across a dwarf who whispered lies in her ear and told her there was a bear-prince waiting for her in the woods Rose-Red was mauled to death by the wild bear and that was the day that Snow-White burnt their cottage down, with herself inside it.
by Black.Doll

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W H A T D O W E K N O W O F T H E S U N ?; a fanmix for a southern gothic greek mythology au it’s only the railroad track that reminds this town that they aren’t alone in this world, but i don’t think it would make much of a difference. the tracks split this town, right down main street, but there’s a bridge that runs overhead of the tracks, so i guess that makes up for it. there’s a smell here that i never knew before, the kind that sticks to your skin and blackens your lungs, it’s something of gunpowder, dirt, and dust, but it’s the blood you’ll remember. i first knew it when i walked out of the diner at the corner of athens and thebes. there’s a hole right in the bricks by the doorway. i heard that’s where zeus right missed his daddy’s head with his pistol, and as the story goes, he doesn’t miss twice, and from the quiet of that man’s eyes, i’ll believe it to my grave. the building next to the diner is where icarus fell, though everyone but his own kin says it was a jump, no one was surprised, that boy has been burning long before i knew him. town ends with the woods, hades’s property, but most avoid it because the trees are the same color as gravestones, vines and all. In fact, the only time people go in there is to see hecate, mostly it’s teary eyed women praying for all sorts of things, sometimes it’s for their husband’s love, sometimes for a life to be brought back to ‘em, only demeter went along that way for something new. we all know what happens down that way by the smoke that gathers above the trees and the upturned graves, but it’s best to just say nothing at all, just like everything ‘round here. people here don’t care about the rest of the world, and, hell, i don’t blame ‘em when it’s their own blood they need to worry about. [listen]
Grit
I grew up in the bible belt, a row of crooked churches where the liquor stores ended. I was a constant burning tan, still yearning for the sun and a taste for Georgia clay.
I’d like to tell you of peace, of beautiful lush woods and steady flowing streams.
But you can imagine that already.
Instead I’ll tell you of choking heat, weighed with moisture that soaks your hair, wets shirts into Velcro, and tickles down your neck.
I’ll remind you somewhere in the middle of a rural town there’s a trailer park where boys wear baseball caps more than they do shirts, where girls are always pregnant wearing cut off jeans.
Blood and bile are a Saturday night in a dimly lit bar with slanted pool tables that take your money and the constant cloud of Marlboro 100s filling the air.
When I travel home my speakers crackle the twang of steel guitars. Words move slow. Time moves slower. All is forgotten.
Years ago we in the South made our women into ladies. Then the war came and turned them into ghosts. So what else can we do, being gentlemen, but listen to them being ghosts?
Absalom Absalom!

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— Listen For those seeking redemption in a war-torn land, featuring a collection of my favorite songs sung in the Sacred Harp and shape-note style from various choirs. "Shaped-note singing began in the late 1700’s as a teaching device in American singing schools in the Northeastern United States. People were looking for a way to make singing arts more accessible. Shapes were added to the note heads in written music to help singers find pitches within major and minor scales without the use of more complex information found in key signatures on the staff. This sight-reading device really worked … and still works today." — From ‘The Christian Harmony’
LITERATURE MEME - GENRES : SOUTHERN GOTHIC
Southern Gothic is a subgenre of Gothic fiction unique to American literature that takes place exclusively in the American South. Common themes in Southern Gothic literature include deeply flawed, disturbing or eccentric characters who may or may not dabble in hoodoo,ambivalent gender roles and decayed or derelict settings, grotesque situations, and other sinister events relating to or coming from poverty, alienation, crime, and violence.
The Sayer House (Kentucky) - Legend has it that after the parents of this family committed a grisly double suicide, their four children lived here all alone for another decade.
A LITTLE GOTHIC, A LOT SOUTHERN: old money, new rivalries & plantation homes
[listen: x]
operation “go out and find shit that looks like scenery from true detective” was a pretty good success this morning
these were all taken about forty-five minutes driving time from tampa, florida

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Windsor Ruins near Port Gibson, Mississippi
November 10,2014