#nyc screamo

[sefondre]

New OLTH ?!

[ameltzerdesign]

Infant Island @ Gold Sounds - 12.15.2023

Infant Island is a Godzilla reference, but this was right around when the latest movie came out and Godzilla imagery was everywhere, so I tried to make a Godzilla themed poster showing as little of Godzilla as possible.

[teethfarmer]

middle earth + olth march 30, 2024 somewhere in nyc

[fumejumesippy]

Fake Funeral Diner flyer I made

[loneberry]

Loved the deadpan humor of this piece by Agustín Fernández Mallo. It serendipitously ties all the threads of my summer together... I read novels by Fernández Mallo and Pavese this summer and am en route to Turin in the shadow of Nietzsche. I hope I won't lose my mind in Turin. I hope I won't wail “Mother, I am stupid,” never to recover my fragile wits again.

Should I stay in the room where Pavese suicided? (Maybe that would be grim but I am grim.)

*

When I tell people I am moving to Turin they always say the same thing:

Isn't that where Nietzsche lost his mind?

In fact, Geoff Rickly, the singer of a screamo band I was obsessed with as a teen, asked me this very question as we were chatting in the Moynihan Train Hall at Penn Station in NYC a couple weeks ago, right before I hopped on the Amtrak to DC. (A poster of Rickly's band Thursday is literally plastered on the wall behind my head as I type this from my childhood bedroom in Florida.)

Me: I'm moving to Turin soon.

Geoff: Isn't that where Nietzsche lost his mind?

Me: Yeah, when he witnessed the horse being flogged. Well, the story may be apocryphal...

Geoff: Ah, Turin Horse. Not my favorite Béla Tarr film...

Me: Yeah, it's not even about Nietzsche!

Geoff: Maybe obliquely...

Me: Werckmeister Harmonies is my favorite Béla Tarr.

Geoff: Damnation is mine.

Me: Sátántangó is pretty great.

Geoff: I like the book better.

Me: Oh, I love László Krasznahorkai. [How many times had I practiced pronouncing that unwieldy Hungarian name?? Well the practice paid off I guess... all for this one moment, probably the only time in my life I will have an occasion to utter "Krasznahorkai" aloud.]

[drowning-inmysleep]

love me while I leave. my persona yours to keep

“Maybe someday your 'maker' will come…haul you away, take you apart, and announce the recall of a defective product. What if all that's left of the 'real you' is just a couple of lonely brain cells, huh?”

[edit: 9.26.23] this has since been edited and updated a month post initial release, edits will be notated in red, feel free to skip them to read the original writing. [/] August 20th, 2023 I played my last show in a town (Austin, Texas) I moved to to be with my at the time girlfriend. We're separating now, as I'm returning home (Saint Louis, Missouri), the place I left behind. During my stay in Texas I had a hard time making friends, though that's not to say they weren't readily available. I intentionally avoided making them, partially because I was afraid of leaving them behind if anything were to change and call me back home. I have a crew of friends (Materia) in Saint Louis - the best I've ever had. When I moved, I wanted to take a leap and leave the place I'd spent my entire life, and try to fix my relationship by moving closer to them.

Leaving behind those who loved me so much was something that affected me in a way I wouldn't understand until much later. Saint Louis is one of the top rated most violent cities in the United States. Growing up there I normalized a lot of the things I saw and a lot of the trauma I gained from being in that environment. It's shaped me as a person, both good and bad. I got good at existing there, as I spent most of my teenage years in the inner city going to DIY shows.

Most of the shows were Emo / Screamo revival, and eventually that's where I started as a musician. I think Emo / Screamo music is so prevalent in the Midwest because the Midwest is a comfortable but at times very bleak and sad landscape. In the city you can see someone get murdered in front of you, and in the plains farmer's kill themselves because the world moved on without them. The veracity and unrelenting emotional outpour of these genres is some sort of ancestral representation of growing up somewhere like that. Paired with the ignorant approach to song writing / sound engineering, it represents the lack of educational opportunities whether it be due to generational financial issues or dismal public schools, paired with familial trauma from living here. It's pure.

I always dreamed of being a musician as a child, if anything it's the only dream I ever had. Once I started working on my solo project, I was having a hard time being booked in Saint Louis since there wasn't a scene for the music I made. So - I decided to make one for myself. That's how Materia came to be. I wanted to bring as many different people together as possible, so we formed the crew in a way that each member represented a different aspect of the Saint Louis music / night life community. Our first shows were in peoples basements, or shitty bars in the bad parts of town. Just like the DIY shows I started out in when I was 19. Over time Materia got big enough to where I finally became recognized as my solo project in my own city, but by the time it took hold I fear I was too jaded to appreciate it. Before Materia, I had been playing shows all over the country, and was recognized globally for what I made and what I was involved in. Even with that being said, playing shows out in places like LA and NYC revealed a dark reality to the dream I had. That reality being that even if you do blow up, the lifestyle of being a internationally recognized musician doesn't create a long-term sustainable lifestyle. What it can / inevitably will create, is a perception of you others hold based on your art and performance of it. At first it felt really cool to have people think I'm a celebrity of sorts, that I am the dark persona I portray in my music. Over time it felt less and less genuine, that being others opinions of me. As I got bigger I built up a slow poison of being paranoid people only saw me for my plays on soundcloud, follower count, or pre packaged brand I created for myself. Eventually that paranoia showed itself as not just being paranoia, it was partially true. A lot of the music and art I make is representative of the difficulty I've endured mentally. I spent most of my childhood/teen years disassociating and hiding away in MMORPGs. I felt more able to genuinely express myself in these digital worlds. In the real world I was being made fun of for looking like a girl, and being forced to fight others to just be left alone. I had to survive, and eventually I started fighting myself. I tried to kill myself multiple times.

These experiences alienated me in a way that my friends that did experience my breakdowns eventually distanced themselves from me, and I don't blame them for it. It's a lonely feeling. I try to replicate that in music, both that feeling of yearning for lost times / feelings of comfort felt in a video game, while knowing that those times are gone and they weren't that good of escape to begin with and - the feeling of knowing the damage you've caused. I can't listen to a lot of the music I've made in the past because it hurts too much, it's like reading a suicide note from a failed attempt. Jumping back to me now, a 28 year old DnB / Trance musician, I am pretty consistently swarmed with people praising and celebrating me. On one hand I really appreciate it, on the other it is the actualization of the paranoia mentioned above. My fans enjoy my music because what they earn from it, they have no idea what I was going through when I made it. I've been told I've helped people going through similar things that I went through as a teenager, and I love that. Last night at my final show in Texas, a genuine fan of mine expressed that I was a good example for them to follow as a trans woman. This is the case in which that paranoia I mentioned is not true.

As I had a hard time making friends in Texas, I also had a hard time getting booked or respected for who I am as an artist. Even though I'm arguably one of the biggest contemporary electronic artists in this city, a city in which there's so many shows it's oversaturated, I was hardly ever booked. This is similarly due to why I did not have friends, as I didn't want to have to put the work in again. I felt like I didn't need to, and that's my fault.

The show we threw last night in Texas was with my crew of people gathered semi randomly through hilariously unplanned circumstances. This crew is called Unreal.

Two months ago, someone on instagram hit me up and told me they had a generator, asked if I wanted to do a show. Through my jaded eyes I almost laughed at the idea, like sure, lets try and throw a show in 2 days. That person became one of my best friends almost immediately. It's like we were meant to of always known eachother. [edit.9.26.23] This friend has gone on to completely isolate themselves from me along with my ex, as they started to hangout only two days after I left. I guess that paranoia mentioned above bleeds into more than just fans right? These are two more people that proved to me they loved me for the caricature presented in my music more than the person I am in real life.

I will do my best to not let this further validate my paranoia of getting close with anyone who know me only as Manapool. [/] I grabbed a friend from a failed show in Texas, my girlfriend and lastly another who arguably was the only friend I had during the almost year I lived here. The first show was a success and we decided to do it again when my girlfriend returned from her trip to Europe. Last night was that show. I'd been working on a album that represented the dark place I'd been in for the past few months, mainly stemming from preparing to leave my partner. This project is called Mana no Uta, or The Song of Mana. While a genuine portrayal of the dark place I'd been in, it was also my attempt of taking a semi ironic genre (Nightcore) and making it painfully authentic. Nightcore is a genre that mainly takes pop songs and speeds them up, with the lyrics usually being romantic or broken hearted in subject manner.

Every now and then I come across a Nightcore version of a song that hits in a much more graphic way than it's origin. I have attempted to bottle that lightning into six songs, pushing their Maker to their nightmarish limit. In a way this circles back to my taste for being punishingly nostalgic. To me, real art not only moves you but haunts you. [edit: 9.26.23] While I genuinely loved my partner, this year I had spent living with them ended up doing an immense amount of psychological damage. I'm doing my best not to write about her in a negative light, but I consistently felt neglected. I wanted things to work, all in all that's why I sacrificed the life I had in Saint Louis in the first place. That feeling of neglection and failure to recognize the effort and love I'd given led to deep rooted feelings of resentment. Eventually this resentment bled into my perception of self, and in a way it poisoned me. I felt guilty for being unable to rid myself of these, regardless, I was constantly in a state of accepted defeat paired with anger at myself for leaving Saint Louis behind just to end up unhappy.

These feelings are what I wanted to represent in this album. Isolation paired with wishing you could salvage the love you have for someone while knowing it's already too deep.

It's part of you. I often felt sick. [/] I wanted people to feel sick listening to it, like you're at the club and you took too much ketamine but you can't go home. Or you're about to play a set but in a fight with your girlfriend. Everyone around you is having so much fun but you're not and you won't. Both the ketamine example and the ladder are things I've experienced in achieving the dream mentioned above. I don't want people to relate to this album. I want it to hurt them. Last night, I played the album in it's entirety as a parting gift to fans like the ones that said such sweet things to me last night. Me and my (now) ex-girlfriend got into a fight on the way to the show. It went over very well, and by the time the live performance phase of my set (Mana No Uta) was over, I began to cry as I transitioned into djing for the last portion of my set. I finished the set and tried to escape to go clear my head. On the way out someone gave me ketamine, I took some and went outside to be alone and get myself together after performing my most emotional piece yet. I wasn't really able to decompress, I kept thinking about how I'd be moving away from here and leaving everyone behind. As this is happening, I'm getting swarmed by people telling me they loved my set, complimenting me, celebrating me. I appreciated it but I wanted to be left alone. Performing that album felt like a instance of public self harm. I was literally going through what I wanted the album to represent. I was the character I created in the screenplay I wrote.

As the night ended the sadness I felt for leaving these new friends and my girlfriend overtook me. It scared me. I'm scared right now. But the worst part is it felt familiar. It felt exactly like leaving Saint Louis. These people will never leave my life permanently, but i'm leaving them behind. [edit: 9.26.23] I will most likely never engage with my ex-partner nor the friend mentioned in the last edit ever again. [/] To reiterate, as I'm realizing this and being consumed by it (at the show) people are coming up to me celebrating me. They're telling me how cool I looked. Telling me how amazing my set was. Telling me how much they love the character I play. I had just played the one of the most genuine sets of my life, and still at the end of it I didn't feel like they understood. My emotion was on my face, my true persona on my sleeve. My eyes were red from crying, my hands were shaking from amphetamines. Still I'm seen as the persona I sold them. Once you release your art to the world, it is no longer yours. The experiences people have listening to it are something I'll never fully understand, as they will never understand me. If they actually knew me, would they still be so impressed with what I've done? Who I've become? [edit: 9.26.23] Looking back on this writing and the album now that's it's finished, and now that i'm no longer in the heart of it's conceptual storm - I can truly say I am proud of what I made. I am most proud of being able to create something that had the emotional relevance that it could even put me in a situation mentioned at the end. In a way creating such a dark piece punished me and I will always love this album for that. I spent a lot of energy on making something that'd make the listener uncomfortable, and being the person to perform it made me just as uncomfortable. That's pure.With all that being said I don't feel as if I won't be able to listen to or play these songs out post release, as while it was based on the miasma I was in, I also wanted to make some dark club friendly Nightcore for the girls to grind to. Without:Me is my favorite song I've made in a very long time. I made it in one sitting on Umami's computer the day of Materia XX. The final song will most likely be the most difficult to revisit, however. I finished the song and then two hours later broke up with my girlfriend. It's titled: In Goodbye. [/]

[pyre-screamo]

Little weekend tour coming up at the end of February! Feb 24th at Rockwood Music Hall in East Village NYC with: Pyre, Mt. Ida, Zyme and Ennui.

Feb 25th at Flemmington DIY: New Jersey vs Valhalla screamo festival featuring too many great bands for me to type out lol

Feb 26th at The Wvrmhole in Philly (dm for address) with: Pyre: Kiande Amedha, The Civil War in France and Zyme.

We are so incredibly excited for this tour and hope yall come hang at these shows!

[somafalls]

Various 2022 NJ/NYC screamo show flyers from my collection

[de1aluna]

down with nyc screamo scene and up with goth scene but also twee revival.. is that too much to ask….

[jettastic-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 《DROPDEADⓧVITALY》Overhaul - Badass Gothic Spiked Chained Choker Stainless Steel.

[screamingforyears]

IN A MINUTE: // A POST_PUNK_ISH EXPRESS…

“CLIMAX INFINITY” is the second single/lead track from @final_gasp’s forthcoming debut LP titled ‘Mourning Moon’ (9/22 @relapserecords) & it finds the Boston-based sextet of Jake (Vocals), Sean (Bass) Cons (Guitar), James (Other Guitar), Peter (Other Other Guitar) & Eric (Drums) “hoping for something else” across 3+ mins of hauntingly howled GothRawk. “CROSSED FINGERS” is the debut single from @wearelastmanback & it finds the NYC by Cork, IE-based artist Alan O’Keeffe (Des Roar) stepping out on his own while waxing upon those “certain people that stick by you & the ones that don’t” across a 3:45 clip of moody/classically Alt-driven FirstWave. @raganaofficial are here w/ “DESOLATION’S FLOWER,” the scorched lead single/title-track from their forthcoming LP (10/27 @theflenser) & it finds the Olympia/Oakland-based duo of Maria & Coley unleashing “storms & golden light” across an epic 8 ½ sprawl of doomed_out, black_metal’d & caustically relentless ScreamO. “HOLE IN MY HEAD” is a choice cut from @spiritual_slum’s recently released LP titled ‘Life After Something’ & it finds the Melbourne-based artist linking up w/ vocalist @amy_cavs to bring a 4:42 clip of dreamily blipped, deliciously dour & minimally morose SynthWave. “AFTERMATH” is the second bopped ass single from @strandedmusic’s forthcoming LP titled ‘Velvet Trace’ (9/27 @greymarketrecords) & it finds multi-instrumentalist David Mansfield’s Atlanta-based project bringing the mad_chestering goods across a 2:48 clip of primally screamed, hypnotically harsh & Horrors-esque Psychedelia.

////

TRACKS STREAMING BELOW...

[omegaplus]

# 3,848

Uniform / Portayal Of Guilt / Body Void @ Saint Vitus; October 20, 2021.

In my first month in Ronkonkoma I went to my very first noise show. Seeing Merzbow, Genesis P. Orridge, Pharmakon, Prurient, and Aaron Dilloway on the same bill meant that tickets were ordered instantly. I took the Long Island Railroad west to the Woodside stop, then the 7 and G lines and ran it to Wythe Av. in Greenpoint where I arrived at a long line at Output. The show started at 10PM and I knew I missed the mark by a little. 45 minutes later I was finally in, weaseled my way up front and saw two guys I wasn’t familiar with. The lead singer was surging back and forth, screaming on the mic- and inciting the crowd. His guitar player stood further back firing off these hazardous riffs as their drum machine rattled itself repeatedly. Three songs later and that’s all they wrote. Next up: Pharmakon. I stayed at Output for most of that bill and it was an eye-opener for me, once which made me realize that Greenpoint was always there for me when I needed it.

I don’t remember much of that opening set being I was late for it. (Output’s policy forbid anyone filming their shows.) Days later I looked them up and it was Uniform (Michael Berdan and Ben Greenberg). I found their debut Perfect World and recognized “Footnote” as one of their songs performed that night. That’s when I started getting into them. Wake In Fright came and it was a desperately needed dose of industrial-metal I haven’t had in forever thanks in part to tracks like “The Long Walk”. Then comes Ben Greenberg’s production work and his involvement in The Men, Coca Leaf, and the Sacred Bones label. And Michael Berdan had plenty of key moments in Drunkdriver, Believer/Law, Canal Street Electronics, and (holy shit) his role as a screaming psychotic in York Factory Complaint. With other cuts such as “The Walk” from The Long Walk and Shame, plus the fact that they’re from New York City, they became one of my all-time top ten artists. They announced a U.S. tour and this was my chance to finally see them in full from start to finish.

Hello again, Saint Vitus! The last time I was here was when Hospital Productions’ Alberich and headliners Consumer Electronics performed. That’s a night still fresh in my head and a memorable show that was. Driver’s license, ticket app-, and vaccine card all good to go. As it was Saint Vitus, I also had an eye out for venue owner Christopher Enriquez who is also known for his Age Of Quarantine video podcasts. Hands-down the best there ever was because he interviewed Azar Swan, Boy Harsher, Kris Esfandiari, Kanga, White Ring, Unsane’s Chris Spencer and others, but alas, he was nowhere to be found. The doors opened at 7PM and either people waited behind the bar, observed the merch-tables where the young metal girl with an Angel Olsen cut was selling Portrayal Of Guilt shirts, or slowly progressed to general admission where Body Void were slowly building their soundchecks. I come on in and, wow, I don’t remember the venue being this small? It had to be no more than 25-by-25 feet standing space. But it’s New York City. Smaller spaces is what tenants excel at for better or wor$e.

I see show-goers and their denim vest / t-shirt allegiances of Bathory, Skinny Puppy, Self Defense Family, Today Is The Day, Impalers, Failure and more slowly pouring in. One guy wore a Steely Dan Aja shirt and that shit was revolutionary given the setting. All this while Godflesh’s “Suction” was playing in the background. Not many of them were wearing masks so I assumed we’re going in with good faith. After about a half-an-hour of approvals and another ten-minute wait, Body Void finally took the stage to get things going. Formerly from San Francisco and now Vermont, Body Void delivered their brand of hard-stomping, trudging, slow-pull teardown of sludge, doom, and black metal. Willow Ryan (in transition) sported a rainbow / LGBTA guitar strap as she screamed ear-rattling blood-curdling delicious gore that would cast your  withering long-haired mother and all her daughters into a inescapable confusing void for all eternity. Drummer Edward Holgerson’s ever-changing facial expressions told of unease, fright, and disgust as he blasted on through his kit. (Another member of theirs was also present on-stage but he was additional touring personnel. Forgive us if I can’t pony up their names.) The audience was at a standstill and entranced for most of Body Void’s set as some of their songs went more than 10 minutes; save for a few moments where Holgerson sped it up and and had heads going. Overall, Body Void got the win.

Portrayal Of Guilt sounded familiar to me, though I realized that I might have chanced them but didn’t air them on Omega WUSB. After their set, I fucking will now. The Austin trio of James Beveridge (bass), vocalist / guitarist Matt King, and a shirtless Alex Stanfield (drums) threw their amalgam of hardcore, screamo, and black metal to the mix. They tore it up and killed it to shreds. All seemed still and in stasis in the crowd until we loosened up and banged our heads a little harder. It wasn’t until halfway in the set when the pit opened up and broke out into our first of many shoving matches and human pinball games. On video it doesn’t look like much but see it up front and personal to experience the real grit of it. Or am I undershooting? Shockingly, no teeth were dislodged, piercings ripped out, or expensive cameras were knocked out in the process. What a miracle. Portrayal Of Guilt had us focused, and with their tempo changes and even some vaporwave interstitials kept their otherwise flesh-tearing doom-and-gloom interesting all throughout.

As Portrayal Of Guilt tore their gear down for Uniform, someone noticed my Whitehouse Psychopathia Sexualis shirt. He introduced himself to me and commended me on representing true-blue first-generation industrial-noise. OK, I’ll take that. I’m one of the very few on Long Island who walks around wearing them. His slurred speech and a tall can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in hand assured me that it’ll take him 30 seconds to complete a sentence. A mention of how it was Nine Inch Nails’ 30th anniversary of Pretty Hate Machine and questions of “how are Uniform and are they good?” and “you think I should get earplugs?” meant this was now an unnecessary conversation. Some things are best left forgotten about. But Revolting Cocks’ “Do Ya’ Think I’m Sexy?” was playing on the p.a. so that made the moment much more bearable.

Uniform finally arrived to cap off the night and started to go. After 6 1/2 years of waiting to see them in their entirety, I finally got it. Under normal circumstances, they’d already play material from their latest album Shame. The pandemic has subsided and venues have opened up once again. Now’s their time. Uniform brought new touring reinforcements with them. Impalers’ Mike Sharp wasn’t there and Zombi’s Steve Moore at one point was enlisted as bassist but there was a change-up, so there’s two hired guns on bass and drums making the outfit a four-piece for the very first time. (Again, no names listed or found anywhere so forgive us again.)

First off: “Life In Remission”. They just let it fly right out of the gate. If you heard it on record, you know it’s industrial metal’s most devastating moment of this decade so far. In person, you see Michael Berdan go wild in all of his physical and mental madness. It’s too bad the opener didn’t end in those explosive drum blasts and that’s way too much for me to ask. They played more from Shame such as the title track and its opener “Delco”. They parsed through The Long Walk and Wake In Fright with “The Walk” and other out-of-control salvos of chaotic energy and walls of sound. Ben Greenberg’s fired nothing but riffs of thick toxic black smoke because they were that heavy. Their remaining live personnel held their own.

For a good 50 minutes, Uniform showed everyone at Saint Vitus how fucked up and tilted today’s political, social, and mental climate is. Their hard-as-nails display of industrial, metal, drum machines, and even walls of noise showed that underneath the spectacle, there’s nothing nice or forgiving about the all-or-nothing winner-take-all behavior of greed, consumerism, and dependency. With their first stop in their home court of Brooklyn, Uniform is carrying the flag throughout their tour and come back in Berdan’s former home town of Philadelphia. What a proper send-off and thanks we gave them.

Usually at show’s end, I’d leave the venue immediately and high-tail it to whatever alphabetical or numerical line back to Penn Station. Not this time. Merch- was on my mind. I knew a band tee and Wake In Fright was on the market; two things I’ve been meaning to buy for a while. So I ruffle my way from the back, through the bar, and to the merch- table where Mike Berdan was. Only five minutes of waiting and now it’s my turn. Read closely and learn how it’s really done.

We greeted each other hello. I asked Mike if he had any copies of York Factory Complaint’s Lost In The Spectacle. That was his previous (noise) project before Uniform. Sadly, he didn’t have any and said I’d have to go to Dais Records for that. (Former member of York Factory Complaint Ryan Martin owns the label.) Shucks. In that case, I went for a small shirt and Wake In Fright on vinyl. “Thirty dollars!” he says. Sold. I handed him my money and genuinely thanked him for all the projects he and Ben have ever done (Believer/Law, Drunkdriver, Coca Leaf, and The Men to name a few). I also told him that I supported everything they did on my radio show and he super-thanked me. I have never come across such a nicer guy than the energetic Mike. Here’s an outfit who gets it and communicates with their fans in a non-generic way; and someone who’s totally appreciative, grateful, and thankful for their fans and the support they give them / him…unlike some other industrial acts we know (Hi, Ministry! It’s us! Pick up your phone!) We bumped fists and I left Saint Vitus feeling like the happiest man on the fucking planet.

That, my friends, is how you support the artists directly. It’s the only way that’s better than Bandcamp: giving your money hand-to-hand to the very musicians you came to see.

I needed it. I really fucking needed it. I needed to come visit Greenpoint to tell myself once again where I should be and who I want to be associated with. It’s not everyday I do this for a day and leave behind depression’s repetitive toxic thoughts behind. It’s up there in the top three nights in New York City ever spent. The alphabet lines, the quiet nighttime walks down the city streets, the camaraderie. It’s back. A disastrous last year might have ruined our souls and forced most of us in solitude but, damn, it feels fucking great to do it again. With the rate of things such as my health, due diligence, and staying in touch with yourself only going up, that trophy is in my sights once more.

[ameltzerdesign]

Nuvolascura / Zmar - 5.8.2024 @ Gold Sounds

Quick banger mixing medical illustrations, blue prints, and some sacred geometry because shapes rule. Or something. I dunno, I spent more time trying to shop painfully lo-res screamo logos than I did actually making the art on this one.

[weepingwitch]

if she* invites you over to chill and maybe listen to some music, do not go. it's a trap. you will be listening to the entire discography of the seminal late 90s nyc screamo/post-hatdcore group Saetia on vinyl

[zonecassette]

Life updates:

-moving from chapel hill back to Long Island at the end of the month, really bummed about it honestly I love this area I don't think I'm really ready to leave but it just makes sense I guess. Moving to the city as fast as I can

-early stages of dating someone living in nyc, very excited about it

-screamo project in the works

-finished grad school? Don't remember if I ever posted about it here's my diploma

-I drink coffee now (almost exclusively mochas, and I've had a lot I don't like, so I only sort of drink coffee)

[c-bassmeow]

Do you like any hard rock or punk MUSIC? (Serious question, don't be sarcastic pls)

Yes even screamo there is no genre of music I don’t like I just don’t like certain songs but I can vibe to anything. I’ve even seen Dir En Grey, Japanese metal band, in nyc and almost got hit in a mosh pit lol I literally love music. Culture, language, genre, doesn’t matter to me