Somewhere over the mountain.

Getting back from a wake– never the most … well, never the most of anything. Mostly just wreckage and pain– friends and family trying to get to grips, trying desperately to configure some sort of meaning out of the fact that she was gone and that this somehow all made sense. And of course, it doesn’t.

I was listening Ofermod when I found ou that they were going to pull the plug. And I thought to myself– as the lyrics purported of death, pain and ritualistic REALNESS, and the black metal screams were pouring forth in that earnest orthodox proselytizing way — that these pussies didn’t know shit about death. Here was a woman who wanted live, who was pulling her life back around inch by painful inch, and these little corpse-painted fucks were screaming about death as though it was some sort of cleansing elixer, as though there was some bullshit esoteric kvlt-ness to not being here, not seeing your family or friends, never seeing the sun rise or hear the creek sing ever again. I don’t care what magical system, what ritualistic knee-sucking cult you belong to– you’re still fucking alive to sing about it.

I always question why I listen to metal that pretends to worship death, destruction, and atavism. I understand the ideas and how they relate to personal liberation; I understand their questioning of the darkness and straight jackets so many of us find ourselves in. But maybe they’re just fucked. It doesn’t seem to make any sense to anyone who lives right now with any amount of self-awareness or empathy.

The fatal mistake was that I ever even considered the lyrics. I usually don’t. I don’t give a shit what Autopsy sings about. I don’t care what Carcass blurts on about. But they don’t take themselves seriously, either. This black metal bullshit… this ridiculous self-serious shit. I wish they would take a page out of Dissection’s play book and just off themselves so they can take their place on the left hand of satan or whatever bullshit they consume so easily, but unfortunately that wouldn’t make my friend come back to life. As much as I want it to. And it pisses me off that these assholes are still here, enjoying the life they claim to hate when she had so much more she wanted to do.

Anyway, more writing and what have you to come. Well, I don’t know.


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