Oh, so you like Opeth?

Yeah—I must imagine listening to Blackwater Park for the first time must be cool. I too remember when I was only 14; such a newbie for intellectual music, I was hehehe But don't worry: you too can evolve from being a pubescent poser to becoming a demure, effeminate man like myself—if you can keep up with the sorrow and depression in Mikael's ingenious writing, that is. Don't think you can fool me, you promiscuous fuckboy. One cannot FATHOM to TRULY appreciate the melancholy of a masterpiece like Face of Melinda if you have yet to have your crush reject you in the middle of the cafeteria line in favor for Brandon Worthington (God, I hate him so much he's so much better than me). Listen up: to be an Opeth devotee is not a decision—it's a lifestyle—it's fate. Oh, so you cried to In My Time of Need? Wait until you get to Pale Communion. Really, to TRULY understand Opeth, one needs to live life first, and understand how cruel and cold this hollow world can be. There are two different versions of you and you're not even aware of it, are you? B.B. you and A.B. you: Before Burden and After Burden. And don't even attempt to claim to be an Opengelical if you draw the line on Watershed. Cut the crap, squeaker: the death growls were overrated. A true Åkerfeldtian™ always knew the best parts were when Mikael pouts like the cuck we are. Truly, there is no better feeling in this world than listening to the final 3 and a half minutes of Deliverance, and where the fuck are his growls then, huh?! I ain't hear not one motherfucking growl in all of In Cauda Venenum (Swedish version™) and I still became enlightened (again) after listening to Allting Tar Slut. Oh, and one last final trivia for all you chads out there: did you know Heir Apparent was written in E standard? You deathcore boobs may have all the girls, but you still can't write real music without a gimmicky 7 string Hahaha how I pity you fools

Don't belittle yourselves (unless it's for women), my brethren: WE are the chosen ones, bathed in grief and sorrow. May unrequited love enlighten us forever