It is getting dark again
Dusk shuffle across the fields
The evening trees moan
(as if they knew)
At night I always dream
(of you)
At that point, Åkerfeldt launches into a 30 second lamenting scream. The likes of which makes your heart rattle inside it's cage. The type of scream that makes you remember what loss feels like; of which that leaves your heart achingly sorrowful.
I used to really be into the Swedish progressive death metal band, Opeth. The 20 minute Black Rose Immortal, was never a favourite of mine... except for those lines and his final, heart wrenching scream.
I hadn't listened to this song in a very long time, but recently some memories came to mind which made me have another listen. Particularly pertaining to The Man with the Brother Tattoo. A drizzly, stormy day; mid week. I, maneuvering us through the city in our red rocket; coordinates programmed in; we arrived safely at all of our destinations.
One of our final missions was at the tattooists. I followed him inside, because he insisted I join him. It was the first time I'd been inside a tattoo parlor in a very long while. I, myself, have no tattoo's. When I was fifteen, and only had a driving permit, I would go visit tattoo parlors and just look around and talk with the artists. They were places of lovely escape for me; from my home and life.
At some point during our trip is when Black Rose Immortal was playing. I had the music turned low, but heard the musical cue that preludes the most spectacular moment in that song, and I exclaimed, "Ooh! This is my favourite part!" I made him listen to that part and he was very quiet. But inside his heart was jittering around with new found energy. "And this scream." Somewhere deep inside of him, that scream made him feel. So much so that it was evident all the way across the cabin of the rocket. That extreme energy he was exuding betrayed his longing. It was the same longing I feel when I hear that scream. The longing of what we most desire, yet can not have.
It is not even a scream for this life time. For our lives were so young then and neither had been dealt blows surging enough to warrant such extreme longing and anguish. No, this is a scream of life times. A multitude of pasts weaving together; bonded; forming this one life we are leading at this moment. I can not say for certain if I was what he could never obtain in his former lives, nor if he was that for me.
My sister asked me, after our first viewing of the film Cloud Atlas, of which part stirred me the most. It was when Sixsmith finds the love of his life, Frobisher, dead in the tub, with his brains blasted out the back and onto the wall. That scene moved me, like I had lived it before. Like whomever it was that I loved in a past life died too soon. The how doesn't matter. It's the finding, the loss, the holding, the crying, the why are they cold and dead that matters.
For all I know, I could be the one who ends up dying and whatever man it is that I always love, it is his scream that I hear as I take my last breath. All I really know is when he heard it, he felt it, and I knew. I knew then and there that he knows that scream, just as I know it. And from there on out, it's all just assumptions.
Play Minutes: 17:25 - 19:50
Dusk shuffle across the fields
The evening trees moan
(as if they knew)
At night I always dream
(of you)
At that point, Åkerfeldt launches into a 30 second lamenting scream. The likes of which makes your heart rattle inside it's cage. The type of scream that makes you remember what loss feels like; of which that leaves your heart achingly sorrowful.
I used to really be into the Swedish progressive death metal band, Opeth. The 20 minute Black Rose Immortal, was never a favourite of mine... except for those lines and his final, heart wrenching scream.
I hadn't listened to this song in a very long time, but recently some memories came to mind which made me have another listen. Particularly pertaining to The Man with the Brother Tattoo. A drizzly, stormy day; mid week. I, maneuvering us through the city in our red rocket; coordinates programmed in; we arrived safely at all of our destinations.
One of our final missions was at the tattooists. I followed him inside, because he insisted I join him. It was the first time I'd been inside a tattoo parlor in a very long while. I, myself, have no tattoo's. When I was fifteen, and only had a driving permit, I would go visit tattoo parlors and just look around and talk with the artists. They were places of lovely escape for me; from my home and life.
At some point during our trip is when Black Rose Immortal was playing. I had the music turned low, but heard the musical cue that preludes the most spectacular moment in that song, and I exclaimed, "Ooh! This is my favourite part!" I made him listen to that part and he was very quiet. But inside his heart was jittering around with new found energy. "And this scream." Somewhere deep inside of him, that scream made him feel. So much so that it was evident all the way across the cabin of the rocket. That extreme energy he was exuding betrayed his longing. It was the same longing I feel when I hear that scream. The longing of what we most desire, yet can not have.
It is not even a scream for this life time. For our lives were so young then and neither had been dealt blows surging enough to warrant such extreme longing and anguish. No, this is a scream of life times. A multitude of pasts weaving together; bonded; forming this one life we are leading at this moment. I can not say for certain if I was what he could never obtain in his former lives, nor if he was that for me.
My sister asked me, after our first viewing of the film Cloud Atlas, of which part stirred me the most. It was when Sixsmith finds the love of his life, Frobisher, dead in the tub, with his brains blasted out the back and onto the wall. That scene moved me, like I had lived it before. Like whomever it was that I loved in a past life died too soon. The how doesn't matter. It's the finding, the loss, the holding, the crying, the why are they cold and dead that matters.
For all I know, I could be the one who ends up dying and whatever man it is that I always love, it is his scream that I hear as I take my last breath. All I really know is when he heard it, he felt it, and I knew. I knew then and there that he knows that scream, just as I know it. And from there on out, it's all just assumptions.
Play Minutes: 17:25 - 19:50
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