Miro Pajic and his closest confidant the Innocent Devil have a Droid Liaison in the middle of the night with an automated being. They approach the stormy shore expecting to meet their mechanical colleague around 2 AM, the perfect time to exchange the top secret musical weapon for two first-class tickets into the Realm of Subconsciousness. As Miro extends his arm to hand over the priceless audio, the Innocent Devil quickly grabs his wrist, preventing him from passing off the treasure to the suspicious looking android. Instead, he redirects Miro's attention to a patch of glowing flowers further down the beach. As the familiar scent of tulips wafts under their noses, M. Pajic retracts his offer and begins sprinting toward the welcoming light.

Loose peace offering passed up for luggage. Carry this condition to the library. Underestimating totem poles. A garden made of twisted wire and torn foil. Nebraskan bottle rockets. We got carried away on the embed. Hilariously stern but still voluptuous. Love is a term constructed for people who enjoy lakeside plazas. A haunted dedication to the abandonment of friendships. Scalloped spine. Hallow cackles bounce down the corridor. A cheerful campground infected with the happiest counselors. The burden rests in sentimental dreamland. Dynamic razors. Mars and Neptune eye me like sky cops. Brilliance mixed with a tablespoon of table salt. A guided horror show.

2016 Tulipa Recordings
http://www.tuliparecordings.com
Artwork by Justin Chodzko
Words by Summer (Brendon Collins)