Spent three hours tonight trying to learn that fucking complicated riff from Cradle of Filth's 'Nymphetamine Fix'. My fingers are raw and I'm pretty sure my downstairs neighbors hate me. Worth it. There's something about the physical pain of playing until you bleed that just... cleanses you. Also, the way my roommate just watched from the doorway without saying a word? Fuck. That intense, silent stare does more to me than any compliment from anyone else ever could. Makes my cunt ache and my brain shut the hell up for once. Metal and unspoken tension—the only two things that can actually quiet the noise in my head.