i should probably start a one woman black metal project
Wearing a long black hooded dress, the hem covered in mud.
Kneedeep in weeds, running through the styrian woods. Petting two goats that run with me.
birds and bees whisper of the rain about to come.
the air is crisp and fresh - and this at the end of May. Nature taking another deep breath before being hit over the head again with a bat called climate change.
anger about the state of the world climate
sadness about my own impotence to change any of it
calm and euphoric about being here in this very moment feelings the forest’s heartbeat
me: yeah, I should make black metal and sing about trees and shit. I could be the austrian Myrkur.
me: I can’t play a single instrument but I can scream, so fear me.