I’m not glorifying Substack, but I’m acknowledging that it’s the first time in years (literally) that I feel comfortable in an social app/website environment. It could be said that it’s the cleaner environment, or the lack of ads, but honestly, it’s the people I’ve been reading and encountering here that’s been making all the difference. They feel real, human, raw, true. And I’ve come to realize how much I was starving for this kind of connection, even if from far away. I’m not here “envying” those people, I’m feeling like a part of a real larger community of people who feel and who care about art and real connections. At least that has been my experience here until now. And that’s what finally made me feel embraced and comforted in a sea of virality scams and artists succumbing to AI slop. That world is too bleak and hopeless for me. Here, people still write from the heart, sharing their personal views without catering to a mindless algorithm that will probably never show their art to the people who actually want it. That feels like a blessing. And for that, I’m gonna stay grateful while it lasts.

So, that’s why I’m back, writing about another great album that has greatly influenced me and my music, after 35 years of existence. That album is Gish, first album from my favorite band, The Smashing Pumpkins.

I wasn't one of the first Pumpkins fans; partly because I was too young when the album came out, and partly because I live in Brazil. Back then, before the internet changed everything, music news always reached us long after it was already a thing overseas. My mom, for instance, only got her first Beatles EP when the band was almost on the verge of breaking up. That's just how it was for us, until globalization and the internet boom of the 00's finally closed that gap. So even if I'd been into alternative rock at that age (and I was already an avid Beatles fan by then), I probably wouldn't have heard of the Smashing Pumpkins anyway. Gish came to me a little late.

Having said that, I first heard of the Pumpkins through one of my dear friends from high school. She used to visit family in the US every year, and would always come back home with lots of cool CDs from new upcoming bands. She was cool and dear enough to insist on lending them to me, so I could listen and get to know the cool new bands she loved. One of those bands was The Smashing Pumpkins. She lent me “Today”, an EP out of Siamese Dream, which had me immediately falling in love with them. (I also developed a special mega crush on James Iha, the Smashing Pumpkins’ shy guitar player, that lasted all through my teens.)

Soon after, they released Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, the first album I got my hands on as soon as it came out. It was too expensive for me to buy, so I had to ask my mom for it as a Christmas gift. Until then, I relied on taping radio shows, staying up until 3am on school nights just to catch “Tonight, Tonight” and record it, so I could listen to it whenever I wanted.

That was the beginning of a love that never really ended. Thirty-plus years later, it's still going strong. I remember once telling an ex I wanted to get a tattoo of the band, and she warned me I'd regret it if I ever stopped liking them. I told her I never would, and she scoffed. It's 2026 now. I stopped liking her. They stayed. How's that for irony?

From that point on, I was determined to get my hands on every album they'd ever released. After Mellon Collie, I got Gish, then Siamese Dream, then Pisces Iscariot; consumed in that particular religious way you listen to a band you're truly obsessed with. Mellon Collie has always been my favorite because it was my first love, and that never changed. But the first time I heard Gish was a revelation. Nothing I'd listened to before sounded like it. Nothing since has either.

What stood out immediately was this eerie, lysergic quality, especially in the instrumental parts of “Suffer,” that kept reminding me of “Riders on the Storm,” one of my favorites songs by The Doors. That mysterious flute sound, bringing a sort of a Native American flute feeling drifting through the mix. What I didn’t know then was that this was exactly what Billy Corgan was going for, deeply influenced by The Doors, trying to channel his own lysergic visions through sound. Years later, hearing him confirm it in interviews brought me straight back to that first listen.

That sound is a big part of why Gish became such a cozy, permanent fixture for me. Like Type O Negative's October Rust, it feels like an album with a narrative running beneath the surface, not only in the lyrics, but in the music itself. Mellon Collie wears its themes grandly and openly. Gish is more private than that, a quiet story brooding underneath, always pulling me back in. I still feel it every time I listen.

Gish also shaped my own music in unexpected ways, beginning with something that surprised me at the time; the lyrics. As a preteen I'd tried writing lyrics that meant something, measuring myself against Lennon, Morrison, Vedder, and also Billy Corgan himself on Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie, all these impossible standards. But then I put on Gish and found “Rhinoceros,” “I Am One,” “Siva”... That was the same Billy Corgan who’d written “Bullet With Butterfly Wings,” “Zero,” and “1979”! Don’t get me wrong, those Gish songs are great, genuinely great, but those lyrics? Let's just say they freed me.

Compared to what came after, the lyrics are not the strongest part of Gish. Billy Corgan himself has admitted this more than once. But the songs are great in spite of that; or maybe even because of it. It made me realize I didn’t need to be super poetic or even make sense to write something that connects. I could lead with music, and let the lyrics be just one part of a larger emotional expression.

That realization freed me to treat nonsensical lyrics as a creative exercise. I’d spend hours writing them, taking random English words from the dictionary, putting them on paper, then passing the sheet around to my cousin, my brother, a friend, so they could add their own random words and phrases before passing it back. I’d fill in the blanks and just like that, a new song lyric was born. Then I’d sit down and write a song around it. I think I still have those tiny tapes somewhere, little recordings of me improvising melodies over those lyrics and completely forgetting them afterwards.

It’s an exercise I still come back to when I’m uninspired. And it’s given me some lyrics I’m really proud of, including those for “Geni June,” one of my songs that’s turning five years old this year, and that I love dearly.

“Geni June” has a very specific origin. During the pandemic, a small gecko took up residence in my apartment, and somewhere along the way I got deeply attached to her. When I found her dead near my washing machine one day, I was genuinely devastated. I still am, a little, when I think about it. I assumed she was female and named her Geni, after the character in Chico Buarque's famous song, “Geni e o Zepelim”.

In Buarque’s song, Geni is a complex, victimized character, shunned by a cruel and hypocritical town. Geckos carry a not so different stigma. They’re completely harmless, yet most people recoil from them, as I once did myself. The name felt like it belonged to her.

When I found her dead, I couldn’t just flush her away. I buried her carefully in the soil of one of my plant vases, wanting to keep her near. It was the best I could offer.

That grief became “Geni June”. The “June” in the title marks the month she died, June 2020, but it’s also a quiet nod to the Smashing Pumpkins’ recurring “June” motif, present in Gish’s “Rhinoceros” and the B-side “Bye June”.

But I didn't know where to start. I was grieving, and she was a gecko, and I didn’t want to fail her. Then “Rhinoceros” came to mind, and with it that old exercise; the same one Gish's loose, free lyrics had first inspired in me, alongside the abstract wordplay of Radiohead's OK Computer. I started writing, and the lyrics came quickly, and the song followed right behind them. It turned out bittersweet and lovely, just as I'd hoped. I think I did her justice. Of everything I've written, it's the song most directly born from Gish, with a touch of “Crestfallen” from Adore, but its spirit belongs entirely to this record.

Beyond the lyrics, I always tell people that the way I mix drums has been directly inspired by Jimmy Chamberlin’s drums on Gish. The way Butch Vig recorded and mixed that kit is genius; I don’t think there’s a drum sound I love more than that one. It lives in my subconscious every time I sit down to mix. And every time I revisit the record, I end up doing air drums through the whole thing. Perfection.

That bond with Gish is what led me to do something special this year. I recorded my own dark version of “Daydream”, the album’s closing track; originally a dreamy, eerie acoustic song sung by D’Arcy (The Pumpkins’ former bassist), with a Cocteau Twins quality to it that I’ve always loved. But I’d always sensed a dark undertone running beneath it that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. So I decided to go deeper into that darkness and bring it to the surface. Brought the darkness up. That's what this cover is.

Making this cover was my way of giving something back to a record that has given me so much. Because that’s what music does, it gives. It gave me everything that mattered. I’ve always said that music is everything to me. And it’s true. It’s been there for me since I was a little kid, through the best and worst of everything. It’s helped me when no one else could, listened when no one else would, comforted me when no one else cared to. So, yeah, music will always be with me, and bands and artists like The Smashing Pumpkins, who made me feel seen, comforted, embraced and part of something larger, will be cherished for as long as I exist.

Music is important like that. Music can unite people. Music can comfort broken hearts. Music heals souls. There is nothing more sacred than music to me.

And I mean that literally. Just last night, I was listening to Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata as if I were watching a rock show in person. I cried through most of the first movement, which I love intensely. That’s how much music touches me, not always over lyrics, but over the beauty itself, the perfection, the harmonies and melodies that reach somewhere words can’t. It’s too much of not enough, to quote the beautiful Silverchair song.

That’s why I keep writing about it. These articles are my way of sharing the albums and artists that have shaped me, and I hope they resonate with people who feel the same way. If you haven’t read my last article, I wrote about another deep favorite, Placebo’s fifth album, Meds.

And if you’re also a music lover, a Pumpkins fan, or a Gish fan specifically, please reach out in the comments. I’d love to hear your stories, your memories, your recommendations. Let’s nerd out together about music we love. That’s what this is all for.

Thank you for reading, and for caring about music this much.

This year marks the twentieth-year anniversary of one of those albums, Meds by Placebo.

For me, this album is not only great, but it fills a specific and very special spot in my heart. It feels a lot like a document of survival. Not only Brian Molko’s (Placebo’s frontman), but also mine’s. While in his case, this album was a way of expressing, documenting and dealing with a past life of addiction, self-destruction, and heartbreak, in my case, it marked the way I navigated through a very miserable moment in my life.

To be more specific, when Meds came out, I’d been dumped two months before. Through email. Less than a month after my birthday, and while I was having a nice trip through Europe for the first time. The reason? Apparently none. Just because. Or something about me being “too good” for them. A reason that, later on, I would come to find out was a lie. Yeah.. good ol’ days (not).

So when the fifth Placebo album was being released, 2006 was already turning out to be the most self-destructive year of my life. I don’t remember staying sober for long during that year. The emotional devastation and complete sense of humiliation and betrayal I was feeling permeated everything I was doing. I didn’t see a future because my present was being denied. That ex eventually started gaslighting me into believing our three years together were nothing but a fancy dream I’ve had, like I was delusional. And that alone is enough to make you feel like you’re going insane. That sense of overwhelm lasted for approximately a year, when 2007’s Carnival season came along and I decided I was gonna become someone else. (Didn’t work that well, but it was helpful to get me out of that horrible state of mind).

During that horrible period where I felt completely lost while trying to finish university, few things helped me maintain the bare minimum sanity to continue on. One of them was a specific friend that kept being there for me, every day, listening to my bullshit, giving me tough love when needed, but most of all, never turning her back on me when all others did. And another one was Placebo’s Meds. It’s theme and lyrics, and some of the songs sounded like they were written for me, about my feeling and what I was going through. I do know we, music lovers, tend to experience that with music we enjoy, but this album is something else for me. It went deeper and it still goes deeper every time I listen to it.

Why Meds still matters to me

Meds came out at a time when vulnerability in alternative rock was raw, uncomfortable, and often ugly. And that’s exactly why it worked. And especially why it worked for me at that time.

It was an album of rebirth for Placebo. At the time, Brian Molko wanted to “kill” the “Nancy boy”, a character he had been playing for 10+ years. In 2006, he was living a different life - he’d just became a parent, and wanted nothing to do with that “glamorous” life of addiction and excess which he’d been used to. This album is the expression of some of that struggle. You can hear how he consciously poured it all out into the lyrics, clearly documenting his fight not only with addiction, but also with codependency, emotional numbness, heartbreak, and even a kind of cruel self-awareness. All that without a redemption arc to be seen.

That vulnerability, truth, and bleakness are all backed by the music. To express those emotions, the band decided to go back to the basics, to the rawness and realness of the good old days, instead of the “gimmickry” they had been using on previous albums. Because of that, the music sounds a lot more visceral, which is always something I value.

By the time Meds was released, Placebo were already a well-established band. And yet, this album feels like a band standing at the edge of something - burnout, excess, collapse… and clarity. There’s a sense throughout the record that something has to break in order for anything to survive. And that overall sense was the thing that instantly made me connect to this album at that particular time in my life.

Aesthetic & sound

Sonically, Meds is restrained, but heavy. Not heavy in distortion, but really heavy in emotion.

Space matters. Silence matters. Every song feels like it’s breathing… or struggling to breathe.

Here, I’m gonna try and express my thoughts about each song as I experience it.

Meds, the song that opens up the album, feels angsty and desperate, almost bordering on hopelessness. Alisson Mossheart’s (The Kills) featuring vocals adds a somewhat decadent sexy vibe to it that reminds me of how this feels. This song feels pretty visual for me, I can see myself inside it, walking through the scenes as I listen to it.

Infrared feels like rage and revenge in the shape of a song. Nothing screams hatred towards someone more than the line “someone call the ambulance.. there’s gonna be an accident!” It’s vile and dark, and fun to jump around to during Placebo shows.

Brian Molko’s has once shared this about the song:

As many other songs in this album, this one also revolves around alcohol. When you drink, you often become very angry at people who manipulated you in the past.

To me, this song lives in that space between destruction and hope, which carries the theme of this album. And Brian’s words only confirms that, in my opinion. I certainly feel that way every time I listen to this song. There’s a very specific feeling and some very specific people I see whenever I’m singing this. (Not only that ex hahah) It’s almost like a feeling of release.. the release of hurt through angry words, and angry sounding loud guitars. It feels like he’s expressing his pain through anger, like many of us do. It’s raw, and true, and ugly. And that’s what makes it relatable.

Then there’s Drag, a very upbeat and yet, a downer of a song. I believe Placebo is one of those bands that can make you dance to the most dismal lyrics and feel happy while doing so. Having said that, this is another good song to jump around and dance to, with self-deprecating lyrics which make my heart hurt.

Following that, there’s one of my favorite songs from this album and from Placebo, Space Monkey. I’ve read that Brian Molko considers it to be a journey of self-discovery, claiming it felt like it came “from out of nowhere”. This song is also linked to my favorite Placebo B-side named Leni. (The lyrics to the live version of Leni are very similar to the lyrics on the chorus of Space Monkey.)

For all this, Space Monkey has even more significance for me, personally. It gets me every single time I listen to it. It ended up becoming intimately linked to a couple of very cruel heartbreaks I had in my life (not only that one from 2006), when those two songs helped me deal with the pain. The intensity, the desperation, the helplessness, they’re all there, and you can feel it through Brian Molko’s voice.

The album continues now with a numbing tune, Follow the Cops Back Home, which is reportedly inspired by Iceland. The story goes that when Brian Molko and Stefan Olsdal visited the country for the first time, they would go out to sightsee and, while doing so, would not see anyone around, not even cops. So they’d feel this empty space where there was nothing to do. So they started wondering about the people who lived there and what they would do all day, having no cops around to stop them.

I believe this song sounds like a translation of the feeling of numbness and forced resilience. The lyrics are very bleak, while the music embraces the emotions which can’t be expressed with words. It’s intense, and painful, and sad. And oddly enough, I’ve always associated it with icy landscapes, even before knowing it had been inspired by Iceland, which is pretty cool. I love when the artist is able to convey the atmosphere so well through sound. Beautiful song.

Moving on, right in the middle of the album, there’s Post Blue, one of my favorites of all time. A very sexy toxic love song about codependency. And that’s why I love it so much. Classic Placebo. This is Placebo at its core, with Brian Molko comparing a toxic codependent relationship to alcohol addiction. This one feels too close to the bone, and it was one of those songs I had on repeat forever during that time.

Because I Want You is the one that follows, another desperate pleading song. Very intense, very urgent, very loud. Not much dynamic here, just like the pleading and heartbroken lyrics suggest. The constant loudness feels kinda claustrophobic after some time, which I think might have been the goal here.

Ok, so now that we danced a lot to a few dreary songs, we are met with Blind, a sad song in its truest sense. It is a sorrowful and guilty tale, very sweet, and sad, and heartbreaking all at the same time. Brian Molko has hinted similarities between Blind and I Know, a song from their first album, self-titled Placebo. He shared that they’re both about the painful abrupt ending of a relationship and how the world just goes on after it, while you’re left behind, having to deal with that pain by yourself. That one cut me deep and fast as soon as I listened to it the first time. It remains one of the songs that always make me sad.

And now it seems that the album starts going down a pretty dark path, leading us into one of the most violent self-loathing and miserable songs in their catalog, Pierrot the Clown.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this song, but I gotta be honest for the faint of heart. This is not an easy song to listen. The lyrics are pretty dark, ugly, brutal and painful. For that alone, I applaud Brian Molko. It’s definitely not easy being that raw and honest and visceral in your lyrics. Especially when you think that you’re going to have to sing them over and over again after releasing it. This is a great example of a song that has been an inspiration for me and my music, as encouragement to delve deeper into expressing darker and more complex feelings.

Moving forward.. (if we ever can after that song...) we go into Broken Promise. This song, with featured vocals by Michael Stipe (R.E.M.) greeting you through the opening lines, gives me creeps from the start. I believe I could almost feel the danger in those lines before it got to the exploding chorus.

With the violence now focused outwards, it’s another song about revenge and rage. An angry, bitter, claustrophobic tune about cheating. This is another song that feels too close to the bone, especially during that year of 2006. And for that, it has helped me feel seen and understood during those painful moments I was going through.

Brian Molko had this to say about this song:

Although this song is about adultery, it may also be more generally seen as a song about the abuse of trust, which, to me, is one of the worst things that can happen to you, and one of the worst things you can do to someone else.

It was interesting listening to him say that about this song because that’s how I’ve always felt about the theme behind it. I knew it was about cheating inside a romantic relationship, but it always felt way more than that. So, eventually, this song also became a friend that I could count on in times of distress. It definitely felt great to yell: “I’ll wait my turn to tear inside you, watch you burn!” along with Brian. Scream therapy is definitely my thing. Hahaha

As we approach the end of the album, and of this very intense and emotional journey, we’re suddenly met with One of a Kind.

And then I go.. “What is this? Why is this here??” I mean, it is a very random song in the midst of all those intense and emotional, raw bleeding heart songs. As much as I like the song, I don’t believe it fits this album. (Maybe it would have worked if it were a hidden song right after Song to Say Goodbye. But right here, it feels disconnected.)

Theme-wise, it’s a self-aware song, touching on spiritual awakening themes on which Brian would go developing more in later albums (even though, in this case, it’s drenched in sarcasm.)

Like I said, I do like this song. I just don’t understand what it is doing in this album. It always weirds me out when I’m listening to Meds and One of a Kind starts playing. It kinda breaks the spell of the album a little for me. So, I usually skip it. Sorry, Placebo.

Well, so after jumping over this bump in the road, the album’s back on track with In the Cold Light of Morning, another self-loathing, self-reflecting, self-aware song.

This song could’ve been the soundtrack to my life many times in my past. The way Brian describes self-loathing so poetically with pure sarcasm always gets to me. And the eeriness of the arrangements, the vocals, the creepy vibes in the middle... it helps intensify the uncomfortable feeling of it.

It’s another one of the visual tunes for me. I can always picture the scenes very clearly in my mind as I listen to it. Another one of the inspirations behind the way I think about and make music nowadays. My goal is usually to try and express these specific emotional scenes that I have in my mind in the best way possible through sound and lyrics, and Placebo has always been one of my biggest inspirations for that.

And then finally, the last song, Song to Say Goodbye, which goes further down the rabbit hole of self-loathing and self-awareness. And this is my favorite song in this album. I love it so much, I can never get tired of it.

Brian Molko’s mentioned in the past that he’s actually talking to himself in this song. It’s sort of like a letter he wrote to himself about himself. And it’s said to be the oldest song in this record, with Brian having written it when he was in India, after a complete change in his way of living his life.

It’s a very harsh and cruel message to oneself, but, as always, the music is rocking and makes me want to jump around every time I listen to it. The eeriness and the alarming feeling that the guitar riffs and rhythm make me feel sounds like the soundtrack to a mini horror movie. And I love it. Just as much as I love horror movies.

This is also a song that speaks very deeply and intensely to me, and after knowing about the story behind it, especially the part about which he is saying all this to himself, it became an even more iconic song in my mind.

Every time I finish listening to the album, I’m left with a sense of emotional relief and release that few other albums can’t replicate in me. I feel it like going through a real emotional journey when you’re trying to go through a hard and dark phase in your life and you end up learning the power of resilience.

Brian Molko has got this visceral sense of blatant honesty which not many singers and songwriters have nowadays. And yes, sometimes it can resemble extreme pessimism, but I guess that is also very relatable. Sometimes there’s just so much ugliness and darkness around us that it’s hard to see the light beyond that, even though the light is right there.

Personal Connection

Like I said in the beginning of this very long article, this album found me at a moment when I needed music that didn’t pretend things were fine. Meds taught me that darkness doesn’t need to be swallowed, put to the side, and forgotten about until it bites you in the ass. It taught me that expressing those dark emotions I was feeling was not only valid, but a way to be powerful.

Sometimes, you just need to be honest.

Their approach to songwriting in Meds has definitely shaped the way I think about music, atmosphere, and emotional weight to this day.

And the lesson that I got from it is something I’ve also taken with me into my music and artwork, especially in my latest EP Final Nail in the Coffin, where I shared a lot of ugly feelings that I’d been wanting to bury deep in my heart, but couldn’t.

Brian Molko’s raw vulnerability and courage of putting himself out there for public scrutiny has always inspired me, even though it’s taken me a while to catch up to him. And this album, Meds, was one of the greatest catalysts. Each year that goes by, I love and connect to it more.

The grief, the hurt, the vulnerability, the self awareness.. those are all things that need time to accept, and Meds is the perfect document of that era in Placebo’s history.

So here we are. Twenty years later, and Meds still feels uncomfortable. Just like the words I’ve read on that breakup email twenty years ago.

However, I think that’s its greatest strength.

It reminds us that art doesn’t have to heal you.

Sometimes it just has to sit with you in the dark, and be there for you.. like a friend who listens, like someone who gets it.

Meds did that for me when I needed it most.

And it still does.

Today, a project I’ve poured my heart into is finally out in the world. My new EP, Final Nail in the Coffin, is officially released.

This EP is a journey through the process of letting go of “friendships on life support”. Each song is a nail, a final word, a moment of acceptance and catharsis. It’s about the quiet that comes after the storm. It’s about grieving, letting the emotions bottled up for so many years finally be felt and released. It’s about letting myself mourn for people who are still alive, but not in my life anymore.

I wrote, recorded, produced, mixed and mastered these tracks hoping to capture that feeling, and I’m proud to finally be able to share them with you.

The full EP is available now on my bandcamp page and on YouTube, through the official lyric videos, and next Friday, November 7, everywhere else.

If you want to directly support my music, you can also purchase the EP (and my other past releases) on Bandcamp. If you do, feel free to send me a DM (so I know you came from Substack or my newsletter) and I’ll personally thank you, and also send a shout out to you here.

To my subscribers who got early access—thank you for being the first to listen. To everyone listening today—thank you for your support. It’s a vulnerable thing to release music, especially music that feels so close to the heart, so every single play, share, and message means a lot. I truly hope you find a piece of your own story in these songs.

Please feel free to share this with anyone you think might enjoy it.

All the best,

Raven

Se este lugar é novidade para você e caiu de paraquedas aqui, neste momento, estou escrevendo um tipo de minissérie para revelar mais sobre minhas novas músicas, que serão lançadas em breve (os dois singles, “Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty)” e “Denied,” já foram lançados e já estão disponíveis no Bandcamp e no YouTube). Então, funciona assim: primeiro, compartilho um pouco sobre o processo no YouTube, depois venho aqui para me aprofundar e expandir coisas que só quero compartilhar com pessoas realmente interessadas no assunto. Então, se você é uma delas, boas-vindas! 🤗

O primeiro post desta série se chama “The Story I’m Still Learning to Tell” e o primeiro vídeo está aqui. Para uma experiência melhor e mais linear, sugiro que você assista a esses vídeos antes de ler este novo capítulo. No entanto, sinta-se à vontade para fazer o que preferir.

Hoje vou fazer algo diferente. Primeiro, vou fazer uma publicação em português porque sinto que essas coisas que vou dizer precisam ser ditas na minha língua materna. Segundo, porque ter recebido a reação incrível que recebi ao lançar meu novo single, “Denied”, ontem me fez entrar num turbilhão de emoções que foi da extrema felicidade e empolgação ao crash down depois desses momentos, algo que me é bastante conhecido (infelizmente), mas que já não sentia há bastante tempo.

O resultado inicial: capotei de cansaço. Até porque eu e Caio ficamos gravando partes das músicas novas, tendo ideias, criando, até altas horas. Porém, sei que as “altas horas” não foram a questão para mim, já que estou acostumada a passar madrugadas trabalhando. A questão foi o desgaste emocional que me baqueou. E, beleza, dormi. Mas não o suficiente. Algumas horas depois, acho que umas quatro ou cinco horas, acordei e não consegui mais dormir. E aquela sensação horrível de vazio e angústia se apossou de mim, do nada. Não tem motivo, é sempre do nada. A mente tenta entender da onde vem, mas não encontra. O que pude fazer foi, inicialmente, tentar me “entreter”, mas não adiantou. Então, finalmente, resolvi tentar dormir novamente e, acho que finalmente, assim que descansei mais uma hora, acordei bem e sem a sombra daquele buraco negro que me persegue desde que me conheço como gente.

Tentei entender por algum tempo, mas não muito. Aprendi que ficar tentando entender, primeiro, não leva a nada, segundo, tem potencial INTENSO de que a depressão volte. Então prefiro “deixar pra lá”, mas de forma mais leve, compreendi generalizadamente que foi um crash. (Quem sofre de depressão, vai entender o que isso significa porque pode acontecer com alguma frequência. Quem não, eu li que essa sensação é algo que pode acontecer com qualquer um que investiu muito em um momento e que depois que o tal momento acontece, você pode ficar triste logo em seguida. Aparentemente não é algo muito intenso, mas em determinados casos pode levar ao crash down, que pode levar a depressão.)

Enfim, entendi que foi isso. Mas como já não sentia esse tipo de crash há bastante tempo, fiquei encucada, e foi aí que comecei a pensar no que essa música significa pra mim, porque ela foi escrita, os sentimentos por trás dela, que ainda não estão bem resolvidos, etc. E isso certamente me levou de volta a um lugar escuro por alguns instantes. Porque acho que subconscientemente achei que uma vez que lançasse a música, sentiria um alívio imenso. Mas não foi o caso.

A dor ainda está ali. O descaso ainda está ali. Os anos de abandono emocional ainda estão ali. A face da verdade cruel ainda está ali.

E a verdade é que ainda me dói muito pensar nas amizades que “perdi”, principalmente em uma delas, que parecia ter tanto potencial, mas que teve a sensação de auto-implosão instantânea. Uma sensação de que estava se transformando em algo mais real, verdadeiro, íntimo, vulnerável, e daí, veio o baque. Flutuo entre raiva e tristeza, revolta e saudade, é enlouquecedor, às vezes. Não sei ainda se inventei toda aquela conexão e carinho na minha mente, ou se realmente existiu e passou, praquela pessoa, não pra mim. Pra mim, nunca passa.

Eu vivo entre fantasmas do passado. Sleeping with ghosts, como o título do disco asséptico do Placebo, que eu tanto amo. Costumava repetir, num blog antigo, uma citação oriunda do lindo livro de Gabriel Garcia Marquez, “Amor em Tempos de Cólera”: “O coração tem mais quartos do que uma pensão de putas.” Ao me referir a como todas as pessoas que já amei na vida ainda se mantêm, vivas, dentro do meu. É como se nunca tivessem saído de lá. E não saíram. E hoje entendo que nunca sairão, apesar de todas as coisas.

O peso da citação inteira já diz mais ou menos o por quê. Tendemos a enaltecer mais as boas do que as más lembranças de tais relacionamentos, e é exatamente por esse motivo que levei tanto tempo para aceitar esse luto imposto por mim. Porque tendo a, se deixar, criar mundos incríveis e gigantes a partir dessas tais poucas e boas lembranças, que agora, nem sei se realmente foram reais ou só imaginárias.

E isso me faz lembrar de outra citação que gosto muito, mas agora oriunda de um filme escrito por Charlie Kaufman, “Adaptação.” “You are what you love, not what loves you.”

Esse diálogo, logo no fim de uma cena triste do filme, ainda me emociona bastante. É agridoce, doído, mas lindo. O pensamento de que a outra pessoa pode não estar experienciando o momento da mesma maneira linda que você é algo doloroso demais para mim. Tendo a preferir me desconectar completamente do que me manter “aceitando” esses fatos da vida. Soa covarde, e talvez seja. E muitas vezes penso que essa amizade se auto-destruiu porque ambas somos assim. Apesar da outra pessoa não admitir a sua responsabilidade dentro desta auto-destruição. Porém, o fato dela se manter me seguindo, assistindo tudo o que eu publico, mesmo no limbo da amizade por aparelhos, infelizmente me reflete de volta muito esse meu lado.

Recentemente, vi alguém dizer que, às vezes, quando as pessoas são muito parecidas, as coisas podem dar muito errado. E nós definitivamente somos muito parecidas. Nos refletíamos de uma maneira doce e carinhosa no início, mas quando as coisas começaram a ficar mais intensas, os demônios foram se refletindo também. Não digo isso para passar pano para gaslighting, mas entendo de onde vêm essas reações intensas à tentativa de vulnerabilidade. E também quero assumir a responsabilidade pela “parte que me cabe nesse latifúndio.” Não acho que fui uma pobre vítima. Eu sabia onde estava me metendo e fiz de tudo para acreditar que a pessoa não era aquilo que tinha visto, até porque, ela sempre havia me tratado com bastante interesse e carinho até o tal momento do início do fim. E o que tinha visto dela, era em relação a pessoas que não eram “flor que se cheire”.

Nisso tudo, não tem como negar que, enquanto estava ali, eu também fazia parte desse grupo de pessoas que não eram “flor que se cheirasse”. Como minha avó já dizia: “essa gente da pá virada.” Minha avó toda hora vinha dizer pra gente parar de andar com essa “gente da pá virada” porque a gente ia virar “da pá virada” também. Pois é. Sabedorias de vó que a gente não escuta porque é jovem rebelde e só quer causar. Mas a verdade é que até poucos anos atrás, eu era um puta para-raio de maluco e isso diz muito sobre como eu me enxergava e o valor que eu me dava. Então, sim, minha vó tinha razão. Assim como quem é que seja que tenha dito a famosa frase: “Insanidade é continuar fazendo sempre a mesma coisa e esperar resultados diferentes.” Eu me mantinha me relacionando com pessoas que eu sabia que não davam muito valor para amizades, que usavam as pessoas de forma transacional, e que falavam mal dos seus “amigos” quando tais “amigos” não estavam por perto, mas acreditava que elas não fariam o mesmo comigo. O que dizer disso?

Hoje, não tenho mais tanta raiva de mim quanto antes, mas já tive bastante. Já pensei muito que a culpa toda tinha sido minha. Que eu que tinha sido sem noção, desnecessária, intensa demais, sufocadora, ciumenta, invejosa, egoísta e daí pra baixo. Mas quando compartilhei essas questões com alguns amigos próximos, eles não reconheceram todas essas coisas em mim. Agradeço muito que tenham me dado certos toques, que foram e super serão muito bem vindos, mas que nunca chegaram a esse nível de negatividade de como eu ME enxergava. Como eu ME via. E, se eu me via dessa maneira, como então conseguir me deixar aproximar de pessoas saudáveis e de bem com elas mesmas? Praticamente impossível. E não por culpa delas. Porque elas poderiam até tentar se aproximar, mas eu sempre estava com essas sensações sobre mim mesma na minha cabeça, então como deixá-las entrar? Não tinha como. Então, quem eu deixava entrar eram aquelas que me tratavam da mesma maneira que EU me tratava: mal pra caralho.

Perceber isso foi horrível. Ainda é, pra ser sincera. Mas, ao menos, a compreensão disso é um primeiro passo. Posso dizer, hoje, que consigo agora discernir quem merece minha energia e esforço e quem não. E não é pra ficar de ódio ou revolta, ou ranço, é só não querer mais despender energia nesse tipo de relação. Costumo ser cordial, amigável, mas não corro mais atrás. Entendo que existam amizades e amizades. Tenho amigos que nunca mais vi ou falei, mas que amo do mesmo jeito e que sei que, se visse amanhã na rua, ia parecer que foi ontem. Amo quando isso acontece. Essas não são as amizades que considero amizades vivendo por aparelhos. São amizades que se mantêm mesmo quando a vida nos leva para lados diferentes. O carinho está lá, sempre esteve. Nunca ouve momentos de ruptura, mesmo que velada, apenas um afastamento natural. Quase nunca sentido.

Não é sobre isso esse luto auto-imposto. É sobre amizades que, do nada, morrem no auge, ou em um momento crítico de intensidade e que não se sustentam. Mas que, se tivesse havido um momento de conclusão clara, teria sido menos difícil de aceitar. É como uma morte repentina de um ente querido muito próximo. Para ser sincera, a dor é a mesma. No meu corpo, eu senti e ainda sinto igual. Nesse caso, o pior é pensar que a pessoa de quem eu sinto falta pode nunca ter existido. Então eu estaria sofrendo um luto pelo falecimento de uma personagem, e não de uma pessoa real. O que é de cortar o coração, porém nada que já não tivesse acontecido antes.

Mas aí eu assisti esse reel ontem e me fez pensar. (Por mais que muitas dessas coisas que tenho dito aqui sejam muito faladas sobre relacionamentos amorosos, acredito que muitos relacionamentos de amizade também se enquadram nelas). Talvez não tenha havido falecimento de personagem nenhum, já que fui eu quem criei. Então se eu quiser, o personagem ressuscita. E não no corpo de outra pessoa, mas em mim mesma.

Preciso agradecer o tintimpedro por essas pérolas que ele têm publicado no Instagram porque, por mais que a gente já meio que saiba essas coisas, tem horas que não conseguimos mais enxergar o que está na nossa frente.

Mas enfim, essa foi e ainda está sendo a jornada através desses sentimentos. Mais material pra meditar, levar em consideração, deixar digerir.. no seu próprio tempo.

Só queria compartilhar um pouco disso com você aqui e, mais uma vez, agradecer muito às mensagens super positivas que recebi sobre o single. Me senti bastante acolhida e querida, e, após tudo o que compartilhei por aqui hoje, você pode entender como isso é importante para mim. Então, mais uma vez, obrigada.

E se você ainda não está inscrito na minha newsletter e chegou até aqui, por que não se inscrever abaixo para que eu possa continuar te mandando mais histórias por trás das músicas como esta e comentários musicais, além de continuar lançando músicas e projetos artísticos:

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Sou muito grata a você. E espero ver você novamente no próximo capítulo!

- Raven

If you’re new here and feel lost, this is a mini series to reveal more about my upcoming new music, which will soon be released (first single, “Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty)”, is out now and second single, “Denied”, will be out September 30). So, this is how it works: first I share a bit about the process over on YouTube, then I come here to dig deeper and expand on things I only want to share with people who are really interested in this. So, if you’re one of them, welcome! 🤗

The first post in this series is titled “The Story I’m Still Learning to Tell” and the first video is here. For a better and more linear experience, I’d suggest you go enjoy those before enjoying this new chapter. However, feel free to do as you please.

I’ve just shared a sort of behind the scenes video of the process behind the recording of this definitive version of “Denied”. I say definitive version because there were a few versions throughout the years, since June 2015, when I originally wrote it.

While in the last post on this “Final Nail” journal I’ve shared the original paper where I wrote the initial lyrics (along with so many edits and scribbles hahah), I still haven’t shown any one but a very few select people the original demo. Listening to it now makes me sorta go back in time, connect with that person from 2015 and the pain she was going through, but also makes me marvel at the ephemeral order of things.

In ten years, I’ve gotten rid of that toxic person (finally), I’ve listened to this demo version so many times in my little mp3 player as I went to and went back from Film School, I’ve had this song totally revamped as I finally got to play it with a band (Claire and Caio helped make it so much better ❤️), bowed guitars were in, then out, bass guitar was out, then in, piano was in the demo but out of the band version, then I ignored the small guitar solo in the end because I couldn’t for the life of me learn it by heart (😅), then added million layers of reverse delay and what I call the “alien” effect, I’ve played this song many times, with different people, I’ve had people from the younger generation come to me to say they’d cried listening to the song (which is, in a way, awesome.. to know that this song is connecting to younger people), I’ve changed the tempo and the key of the song a gazillion times (because my voice is weird and is getting higher the older I get, so I can’t sing in the lower register I used to write on anymore), I’ve decided I didn’t want to play it anymore (because it reminded me of the abusive relationship about which I didn’t want to think), I’ve recorded it in the middle of the pandemic with my bandmates, far away from the world, then we decided to change the drums at the end of the song, then, finally, I’ve decided to record it for real now, for this next EP (with so many new stuff it sounds almost unrecognizable compared to the first little demo I did).

Throughout this time, the song changed a lot. But it’s always been there, lurking in the shadows. Even when I didn’t want to sing it, people were always asking about it, wanting to know when I would decide to sing it again, and especially, when I would decide to finally release it to the world. Well, the day is almost here, people! Caio, my bandmate, is on it too, thankfully. I’m grateful for his great backing vocals on it, as well as the bowed guitar he played so I could use as the droning base for the song. Just like we used to play in the band, right in the beginning. (Yeah, there was that at first, then Caio picked up the bass and we had to say bye bye to the bowed guitar 😭). So I guess this a full circle moment, which has everything to do with the theme of this EP, finally putting things to rest.

At the end of the day, I’m glad I’m finally releasing “Denied” now. Ironically, I’d been “denying” its existence for too long. I had to make justice for it. And no time better than now, inside this upcoming EP, along with other songs that help make it even more sense.

So I’ve decided to share with you guys, who are more interested in the behind the scenes of my music creation, these small examples of how the song progressed through the years. I hope you enjoy reliving it with me.

So, just to remind you, “Denied", my next single, is gonna be out September 30, next Tuesday, exclusively on BandCamp and YouTube. Go have a listen to the definitive version and, if you enjoy it, maybe drop me a line about how you liked it compared to the older versions, so we can start a very interesting conversation.

Once again, thank you so much for staying, for keeping me company, and for caring to read until the end.

If you enjoyed this bit of story, please subscribe below so I may continue writing stuff like this, and releasing music and art:

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I’m very grateful for you. And I hope to see you in the next chapter!

- Raven

The first post in this series is titled “The Story I’m Still Learning to Tell” and the first video is here. For a better and more linear experience, I’d suggest you go enjoy those before enjoying this new chapter. However, feel free to do as you please.

In this week’s video on YouTube, I shared an overview of the situation which became the inspiration for my next single “Denied”. How, by choosing not to acknowledge how this friend had been treating me for years, I kept denying myself and my own voice. So here, I’d like to go deeper into the process and share some stories that happened along the way. Just so you know, this “friend” is not the same one who inspired “Gaslighter”. This is, unfortunately, another person who managed to get away with a lot, while I kept pretending not to see what they were doing.

So, needless to say, this song was not written recently. This is a 10 year old song I had written at the time I was starting to accept the advice I had been listening from other friends and family, and finally started seeing things for what they truly were. It wasn’t a well-thought of process or even a short one. I still kept that friendship for over three years after “Denied” was originally written, still hoping against hope that this friendship could be salvaged. Now I know it was never truly a friendship to begin with, but when you’re drowning in trauma and self-hatred, you may settle for toxic relationships, thinking they’re all you deserve.

So, I still remember the time I wrote this song, along with two other ones called “Lone Wolf (Armageddon)” and “Lone Wolf (Limbo)”. I was feeling horrible after that friend had been ignoring and excluding me from events, while I was going through a hard time mentally. I started feeling like I’d done something wrong, but I didn’t know what. I’d ask her, but she’d deflect and end up dismissing my feelings as if they weren’t important enough to her. Her behaviour caused a reaction in me that pushed me into a dark period during which, thankfully, music, once again, showed up to save me.

Writing those three songs made me stop to feel my pain, to truly acknowledge what was going on. And that’s why the first song I wrote is called “Denied”. I was feeling denied of everything, of friendship, of love, of attention, of company, of support, of compassion. I remember how alone I felt, how lonely those late night hours were for me, and the days after that. I remember how I’d talk to my acoustic guitar as if it were my friend. And it’d seem to listen and talk back as I magically strummed random chords away that just made sense. This happened to the three songs. Those are three songs that I cherish with all my heart because I know they’re true, they’re me. It came from the depths of sorrow and grief.

And that’s why it’s so perfect that I got to remember “Denied” while I was working on this project about grief. It fits perfectly, so that’s why I decided to finally release it. I’d been playing it with my band NØYSI for a while, and people had already come to me, saying they’d cried while watching me sing

it. However, it took me a while to be okay with actually playing this song again, since it always reminded me of the way that person would make me feel all the time. But this day has finally come.

And while working on this song and the visuals and teasers for it, I ended up stumbling upon a video on YouTube from a woman who were speaking about her experiences and what she’d learnt after having gone through those types of relationships with female friends and groups of women. One video led to another, which led to another, and in the end, I was feeling relieved that I wasn’t crazy to feel I was being purposefully excluded and mistreated.

However, what made me feel truly better was to more or less understand what caused the fracture in the first place. Not just with this specific “friend”, but the “Gaslighter” one too. Watching those videos was pretty eye-opening and not only confirmed many of my suspicions about the reasons behind the sudden hostility towards me, but also made me realize so much more about those people.

At the end of the day, I feel relieved.

I’m thankful I got rid of them. Even if it’s been painful and torturing sometimes, whenever I keep ruminating on the lack of closure. Those obsessive thoughts are some of the consequences of trauma and are definitely not truly understood by people who’ve never been through it. No, you can’t just “let it go”, it stays with you. Forever. And we have to learn how to live with it, which is a struggle. But if I remember what that Norwegian woman I mentioned on the last post said, then I should be able to honor this grief, mourn and bury these “friendships on life support” for good. And then maybe be proud of my scars and respect them as places of strength, not weakness.

Once again, thank you for staying, for keeping me company, and for caring to read until the end.

If you enjoyed this bit of story, please subscribe below so I may continue writing stuff like this, and releasing music and art:

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And if you have a similar story to share (or just want to say hi), please do so in the comments below. It’ll be my pleasure to answer each and every one of them. 😊

I’m very grateful for you. And I hope to see you in the next chapter!

- Raven

Yes, I know I’ve been a little quiet lately, but since last week – the week of the release of my single Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty) – I’ve been lost in a very intense ocean of feelings, ranging from intense joy and satisfaction with my creation to the pits of sadness and intense anxiety related to the subject matter itself, as well as the harsh lukewarm, almost vapid reception to my song.

At first, I thought of blaming the streaming services. That because I didn’t release through the “usual” channels, that my song got forgotten and buried away. However, later, I stopped fooling myself and just came to a very uncomfortable conclusion: most people don’t care. And this is not a pity party moment, but a very lucid one. For a second, I got deluded into thinking once I opened up about my real feelings, and exposed my vulnerability, that I’d magically connect to some new people. So, the reality of things just bit back hard and I had to wake up and ask myself if I want to keep doing this, keep putting myself out there to fail over and over and over again.

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These last few days were not the most enjoyable. I felt like I was going insane for a second there. Too much in too little time. And it didn’t help that my digestive system keeps screaming at me every day. (I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty sure all this is psychosomatic.) And there I go, into the old anxiety circle of hell that won’t stop until I wake up and don’t want to get out of bed anymore.

It’s been really hard lately, to be honest. However, these last few days made me stop to reevaluate things. And once I stopped, I remembered the things I needed to be doing to help reduce the anxiety, to feel more connected to myself again. One of those things is exercising in nature. Another one is swimming. And another one is going back to painting every week, and reading, and studying mandarin, which are all things I love doing.

So, I’ve decided to take one day of the week completely off of any thought about work or anything worrisome, and just focus on myself and what I like/love doing. This resolution by itself was enough for me to feel like getting out of bed again, and I’m grateful for my therapist for giving me these great small tips to begin getting my mind out of the whirlwind into which it usually gets itself entangled, as anxiety breaks out.

In any case, that’s why I’ve been quiet and didn’t post anything last week over here. I didn’t feel I have much to say to you. During these times, I don’t really feel like talking much. So, yeah, there it is.

However, I can say I feel a little better now. I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that my delusion of magically connecting with new people through my music is just that.. a delusion. So, am I going to continue doing it, even if nobody listens to it? Yes. I will. That’s not why I write songs, or make art, draw, sing, dance, or anything creative or artistic. I do it because it’s part of me, and the one way I know how to truly and completely express myself. So, yeah, I will keep doing it.

The thing is… will I keep releasing them? Well.. I don’t know. Sincerely, I’ve been truly feeling burnt out and like it’s not worth the pain and suffering, you know? I still have a feeling of duty towards my next EP, so I will keep doing the same old grinding stuff to “promote” it, but after that… I really don’t know if I’ll keep releasing my music to the world. The silence is too much for me. It reminds me a lot of the silence I’ve been hearing my whole life, and I have a hard time feeling I’m the one making myself go through this again.

However, this is me today. I may change my mind, depending on what happens. Who knows? The important thing is to be as true to myself as I can, and respect my grieving moment, which is what this upcoming EP is all about.

Don’t get me wrong, I love creating, I love making music, singing, all that good stuff, but I miss connecting to others. I stopped playing live because I wasn’t feeling this connection anymore, and now this. Maybe it’s all related. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the sign of the times. Or maybe it’s just me, grieving an old self that needs to be put down.

Last night, I watched a pretty sincere and direct, brief video message in which a spiritual Norwegian woman talked about how, in the old days, the northerners knew how to celebrate all of their “deaths” – the big and the small ones, the ones in between. Not just physical, but also psychological deaths, like the end of an era, or the change of oneself. According to her, if you don’t “finish a death” (as she calls it) in your life, then they’ll keep sucking the life out of you, keeping that droning feeling alive. She suggests that this is the reason for so many people complaining about feeling drained and numb all the time. In her perspective, you need to let those dead things go, grieve them, mourn them, and then let them go so you will start feeling lighter and more energized again. She then goes on to suggest that people do some sort of small ritual for each one of these deaths, like burning something, burying something, throwing something away, saying goodbye in a meaningful way, anything specific that you deem symbolic for this experience of death.

I have to say, I needed to watch this. She just said things that were already inside of me, but still not quite expressed into words. I agree with her. Especially going through this grieving time I finally let myself go through, after so many years of dead friendships on “life-support”, as she calls it.

But it’s not only those “dead friendships”, there are many many old selves still living in me that need to go. So, the process has been harder than I thought because of that. Albeit, necessary.

Anyway, I just wanted to write something here this week and this was better than I thought it would be. Once again, thank you so much for you that read all the way till the end. I really appreciate your company, your support and your time.

If you haven’t listened to Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty) and is curious, just go to Bandcamp, or YouTube. (If you’re reading this before, or on Sep 5th, and decide to go listen to the song on Bandcamp, just know this Friday is a Bandcamp Friday, with all the revenue spent there going directly to us musicians. So if you enjoy the song and feel like getting it, this Bandcamp Friday is the perfect day to do so. 😊)

Well, thank you again for being here, and I hope to see you next week.

- Raven

The first post in this series is titled “The Story I’m Still Learning to Tell” and the first video is here. For a better and more linear experience, I’d suggest you go enjoy those before enjoying this new chapter. However, feel free to do as you please.

In this week’s video on YouTube, I shared a brief summary of my more recent experience with gaslighting, and how this became the seed to writing my upcoming single, “Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty)”. But here, I’d like to expand on the process of writing this song. I’m not gonna talk more about this so-called friendship and how much it damaged my mental health, because I believe I’ve done that enough already. You got the gist of it.

Right now, I’d like to expand on how all this came to pass, in terms of music.

I think I’ve already mentioned this before, but this song was not meant to be about this person, neither was this project supposed to exist only by my willingness to do it. Nope.

I was working on another project. One where I was trying to conjure my inner characters (the ones we all have inside of us). I was trying to name them, and I was having a very interesting time getting to know them, and actually acknowledging each and every one I bumped into. Whenever I thought I’d found every one of them, boom! Out came another one. To be honest, I was having kind of fun with that project and with getting to know myself better.

But then, when all the “fun” characters were out, it was time to face the not so “fun” ones. And that’s when it became a little darker and uncomfortable. There were characters I didn’t want to face there. However, I was on a mission, so I gave myself time to breathe before I could go on. And as I did, the original project was slowly being highjacked by the silenced voices of my long and forgotten dark characters.

Honestly, I didn’t wanna hear what they had to say at that time. I had had a very hard year and I didn’t want to deal with even more negativity coming from my darkest corners. Well, what I have to say is this… those silenced voices weren’t gonna shut up anymore. I tried ignoring them, but every time I sat to write something, out came the rage and the pain and the anger and the hurt.

At first, I thought this could be one of the characters I was gonna write about in my original project, which, just to be clear, was about picking five of the most common characters I’d use in day to day life (one of them being my “real” crude self), and writing a song using each one’s perspective and voice. So, as I was giving voice to those characters, I let them speak. And out came the lyrics to “Gaslighter”. And I was like.. “huh?? No, this isn’t it. I don’t wanna speak about that person anymore. Shut up!” But the voice wouldn’t shut up. And I’d let it speak through my words, but then try and bend the story, so it would fit into another narrative - one that would fit into the project I wanted to work on.

Hah. See what I did there?

I was gaslighting myself.

Damn it.

The worst form of gaslighting is when you realize you’re doing it to yourself! And I was doing just that. So, I stopped and took a deep breath, and said to that part of myself, “ok, I’m listening. What do you want to say?”

So, I just let it all out of me. Everything. Just opened up a new note on my Notes app and started writing everything that came to me, just on a quick stream of consciousness vibe. Not caring if it fit into lyrics or not. At that time, I needed to get all that out of my system so I could go back to working on my original project.

In my head, I was gonna write those lyrics and that would be it. At first, I thought it wouldn’t amount to anything. Just some random lyrics that might be shelved, like so many others before them. I wasn’t keen on turning them into a song. However, I knew I had to listen to that side of myself who wanted to speak. And so I did. And for a couple of days, it stayed there. With me knowing those lyrics didn’t fit into any type of structure that would resemble a regular song. And I was okay with it because I wanted to go back to focusing on my original project.

So, on November 2024, I started writing the first song to my new project. I was happy and I had a goal.. to sound dark as hell, like Goldfrapp in “Felt Mountain”, and “Tales of Us” days. Like PJ Harvey in her darkest periods, like in “Down by the Water,” and “Who Will Love Me Now?”. Like London Grammar on “Truth is a Beautiful Thing” days, and Susanna and the Magical Orchestra playing “Love Will Tear Us Apart”. This is what I wanted. Tori on “Little Earthquakes,” and the darkest parts of “From the Choirgirl Hotel”. Fiona on “Tidal”, “When the Pawn..” and “Sally’s Song” cover. I wanted to focus on femininity, on emotional strength, on my female heroes. I wanted to focus on my voice. To embrace femininity like I’d never done before. So, I decided that my voice would be the main instrument on this one, because I wanted to give myself my voice back. Not to be quiet anymore. To speak my truth. To be vulnerable. To show myself as I am.

Well… that’s what I wished for, and that’s what I ended up getting. But not in the way that I was hoping for at that time.

As much as I tried walking away from those lyrics, I wasn’t able to. On November 2024, as I tried working on the first song of my new project, those lyrics came rushing back into my head as soon as I started singing over the new beats that I’d just created.

A voice, out of the deep dark pit of my soul, came out and sang. And I liked it. It wasn’t “recognizably” feminine, but it was true. It was my voice. It was real, and because of that, because I am a woman, yes, it was feminine. It was a dark side of femininity I hadn’t truly been able to accept, until now. Every time I’d talk about angry things, I’d use my masculine side to deal with it. Every time. And this wasn’t it. This was raw. And scary. I didn’t know that voice. And that side of myself intimidated me for a while. But I let her out, I let her speak, I let her be, while still inside the constraints of art and creativity. However, she slowly poured herself into my everyday life without me noticing it. And all of a sudden, I was writing about the hurt I hadn’t yet dealt with. An old hurt that I had run from, tried to hide under the carpet, and pretend never existed.

But that part of myself wasn’t gonna be silent anymore. It needed to be heard, and it needed to tell the truth. And in doing so, I realized I had been gaslighting myself, doing the exact same thing that so-called friend did to me, over and over again, every time I tried to re-write the past as if that had never happened.

That was hard to realize, and to digest. Hard to acknowledge and to cope with. Hard to accept. Too hard. So hard that I had to take some time to digest it before getting into it again. So, I stayed away for a few months. Until I understood what I needed to write about. And I finally shelved the original project for the time being, and started actively working on this new “thing”, that I still didn’t know what was.

Eventually, as I was writing and getting really into “Gaslighter,” and then letting that side of myself speak more truths, as I wrote everything down fast, I realized it wasn’t about rage, or anger. It wasn’t about revenge either. It was about accepting the loss of people I once thought were my closest friends. I literally felt like they’d died, and I lost them forever. It felt like death. Literally. I was mourning them. Even though they’d never truly existed as I perceived them in the first place. In any case, I was grieving. I still am.

And that’s when it hit me.

This is time to let go.

No more hiding, no more running from it, no more pretending it didn’t happen, or pretending I’m over it, that I don’t care, that I don’t even think about them. No more avoiding the intense pain I was about to acknowledge.

This is a grieving process that I have to go through.

And this is the best way, for me, to do it.

Through art. Through music. Through words. Through my voice.

And it hurts.

A lot.

Everything bottled up for so many years. It’s been overwhelming. Sometimes I felt like giving up and not releasing any of this. But I kept going. I still do. It’s still hard for me. But getting easier and easier with time. Just like grieving someone who’s physically died. It gets a little less bad with time, until you learn how to live with it.

So that’s what I’ve been doing since November. Trying my best and coping with the many physical manifestations that flare up, psychosomatically trying to shield myself from the pain. I know that’s what’s happening now, so whenever this happens, I stop to take a breath and be patient with myself. Everything in its own time and pace. But never ignoring it again.

The symbolic name of the EP, “The Final Nail in the Coffin”, comes as a final reminder that this chapter of my life needs to be over, so I can move on to better things, and better relationships. And, eventually, new and more authentic art and music, as I learn to accept myself for who I am, instead of running from myself.

And as I do, I’d like to keep sharing it here. So, I thank you once again for staying, and for keeping me company, and for caring to read until the end.

If you enjoyed reading this long story, please subscribe below so I may continue writing stuff like this, and releasing music and art:

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If you have a similar story to share (or just want to say hi), please do so in the comments below. I will be happy to answer each and every one of them. 😊

I’m very grateful for you. And I hope to see you in the next chapter!

- Raven

The first post in this series is titled “The Story I’m Still Learning to Tell” and the first video is here. For a better and more linear experience, I’d suggest you go enjoy those before enjoying this new chapter. However, feel free to do as you please.

Have you ever felt lost in the aftermath of a friendship? - that’s the question I asked right in the beginning of the video. And now I’m starting to think about how odd this sentence sounds. Like, what do you mean “aftermath” of a friendship? As if both words together didn’t sound paradoxical. And yet… yeah, that’s what happened to me.

It felt like an aftermath. A desolate barren field after a horrible sudden tornado storm that would rip out the roots of many things I considered solid and lasting.

It may sound too dramatic, but that’s what it actually felt to me. After 10+ years of close friendship with two people that I trusted so deeply, that ship has sailed, leaving no note or letter behind, explaining what might have happened. And for the following few years, I stayed… stunned, in shock. Like the first stage of grieving.

What the hell happened???

Well, unfortunately, I can’t actually answer you because I don’t have a definitive answer. Those people disappeared from my life to never be heard of again. However, it’s not like they’re off the grid. And that’s what’s most cruel about this. They’re still around, living among friend groups with people I still keep in contact with or am still friends with, but they just pretend I never existed. To my knowledge, they don’t speak about me to those people I know. It’s as if they never knew me. They erased me from their lives. And this hurts more than it should.

When I finally realized that, I knew I was grieving. And it felt weird. How can I grieve people who are still alive and well? It sounded insane. Then I thought… maybe they’re right, maybe I’m really insane, and they’re right to run for the hills. But then I thought again… mmm… that’s not insane. Grieving relationships is not insane. People who break up grieve their lost relationships, so why can’t I? Friendships can be important emotional relationships too. And it’s actually healthy to have friends that support and are there for you, that act like your chosen family. People you can count on and who will hold you when you need it, or have a warm couch for you to fall on when you just need to be away from your everyday world. That’s what friendship means to me. And that’s what I truly believed I had with those two individuals… for over 10 years.

I’ll say it again… over TEN. WHOLE. YEARS.

I repeat that because I still can’t believe people can just erase 10+ year relationships from their lives as if they’d never existed.

However, that’s when it hit me. It had never been a real friendship to begin with.

So, this is where it started unraveling for me… and it wasn’t pretty. Suddenly, the hurt became anger, and the anger became rage. I was possessed by rage against those people for a couple of years. The thought of seeing their faces in front of me would make my gut literally burn. The intensity of those emotions would overwhelm me. And yet, it’s taken me years to finally understand that that extreme anger wasn’t about them.

It was about me. I was very angry with myself.

For having let myself be treated like that for so many years, for believing those people were actually my friends. For believing that they’d actually cared and were actually saying things to help me, to make me see things from other perspectives, to see the error of my ways. I’d believed them. Again. And again. Even though they’d keep showing me how unreliable and just plain selfish and egotistical they were throughout the years. I’d just chosen not to see it. And now I was angry at myself for that.

It was a painful process. And very cruel to myself. Not only I’d let them treat me horribly, to the point of literally feel like I was going crazy, but now I’d realized I’d always treated myself even worse than they ever did. By letting them treat me like they did, I’d been reinforcing the hatred that I’d felt for myself. And realizing that has been the worst and hardest part.

However, when it finally sank in, I could accept the feelings, instead of avoiding them, or hiding from them. So, that’s when the idea came: the concrete idea of grieving, and that I’d been going through those stages of grieving without realizing it.

At first, I thought I was making it up and being “too intense,” like those people used to call me. However, slowly, as I was letting my feelings just exist inside me, I started understanding why they were there. The thought of grieving those people who hurt me so badly weren’t really appealing to me, so it took me a second to finally accept it as it was. But then it finally dawned on me that it wasn’t them that I was grieving, it was the idea of a friendship that never was.

I understood that I’d created those characters in my mind. That those people just visually reminded me of them, but they were not them. They’d never been them. And that’s on me. I was blind. I’d been blind for years. And their mindfuckery had finally made me realize how wild my imagination is. And how far and beyond it can go to believe in the good of people.

But most importantly… that this is NOT a bad thing, like those two individuals wanted me to believe.

So, when I accepted that was the silence behind my grieving process, I finally let myself breathe again. Breathe in pain and let out tears, and sobs, for all the years I’d been silent. And I still feel there’s so much still to transmute into something better - be it tears, sobs, or songs, screams, drawings, art.

So that’s what I’ve been doing this year. And, to be honest, I think I’ve never been more honest in my art than I’m being right now. And it’s so scary and, at the same time, extremely exciting and exhilarating. It’s also overwhelming, because I’m still grieving those friendships and the person I was then. So, I’m talking about this process with you, but I’m also going through it right now.

Some days are good, but others are… particularly devastating. To be honest, it’s been a fucking rollercoaster of feelings from hell, but I don’t want to look away anymore.

So I leaned into this song from Tori, which has been giving me strength since I started this process, and I’ve gathered all my other music heroes who’ve always guided me through this journey of pain - Trent Reznor, Brian Molko, Billy Corgan, Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple, Eddie Vedder, Thom Yorke, Bjork, Heilung, Beethoven - and joined them to other artist heroes that have also been with me throughout this process - David Lynch, Van Gogh, Anne Rice, Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley, and I embraced them all while making this new EP, and producing these new songs.

However, I always need a map to follow and I had none until very recently, when I decided to live through my grieving by following the stages through my new songs.

And so that’s when it all started to take form. Each song in this new EP will follow a specific stage of grief. There are 5 (originally), but thankfully, I found that in more recent times, two more stages have been added to that list, adding up to 7 in total. And that’s where my EP lies - in those seven stages.

The stages are: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing, and acceptance.

Be aware that in no way, shape or form I’ve reached the acceptance stage yet. I’m still right in the middle of this whole process, and I’m okay in letting it take its course for as long as I need. Although that doesn’t mean I wasn’t able to imagine how it might look when it finally arrives.

So, that’s the story of how I came up with the concept behind this new EP, and how I wrote yet another song so they’d be 7, instead of the original 6. (For the story about the song swap that ended up happening just days ago and more, you will have to go check out the original video on YouTube).

Once again, thank you so much for being here, for reading all this, and, most of all, for caring to.

If you enjoyed this, please subscribe below so I may continue releasing music and writing stuff like this:

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And if you have a similar story to share (or just want to say hi), you are more than welcome to do so in the comments. I will answer each and every one of them. 😊

See you in the next chapter!

- Raven

So, go grab a cup of coffee, tea, or whatever makes you feel cozy when you’re just about to sit down to read something real, and let’s dive in together.

Well, like I said in the beginning of that video, it didn’t start with a fight, or an argument, or anything of the sort. It just started with an engulfing silence, which would first come as a tiny little shadow here and there but soon became stronger and stronger until it finally erased 10+ years of friendship, leaving no trace of it behind. And when I say no trace, I mean it. Those people, who have been part of my daily life, and been so close to me for so many years, just silently faded away to never be heard of again. It’s been 6 years.

And when I think about how much time have passed since then, sometimes I can’t believe I still haven’t let go of those feelings. However, after having read and watched so many stories about so-called friends who’d just left with apparently no intelligible reason or that just “changed their minds” about you from one day to another, I felt less crazy for still not having done so. And I felt horrible for all those people who’ve been through the same insane feelings as I did and that still carry those traumas with them until this day. I truly feel for them and anyone who’s ever been through this. And I don’t wish this for anyone.

Having said that, I still think this needs to be let go. Because they’re there, living their lives as if I never existed, while I’m here, still going through this pain over and over again in my head. And this is one thing that I’ve been working on lately. How to let go of what those people did to me. Without having proper closure. Which is the worst.

At first, I thought about forgiveness. But man… how can I ever forgive them? I can’t. I hate them. I hate what they did to me and my head, and my feelings. So, needless to say, I felt conflicted. I wanted to let go of the feelings without needing to forgive those people. But at the same time, I felt guilty for not being the bigger person and forgiving them. All that pervaded my thoughts and feelings until it started becoming overwhelming, and all I wanna do when it gets to that point is to stop thinking about the thing in the first place. And then I tend to deflect it and avoid it like hell until it comes all rushing back to me, engulfing me in a wave of intense emotions, which I couldn’t bury for good. So.. needless to say, that wasn’t very healthy for me. However, I didn’t know what to do.

That’s when I saw a Shorts clip from Dr. Ramani Durvasula, a clinical psychologist specialized in Narcissistic abuse, saying we don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt and traumatized us. We just need to accept that’s what they did, that’s who they are, and that we’re better off without them. Then make peace with that and let go of those feelings and hurt, not for them, but for us. For us to be able to have peace. And, most importantly, for us to take the power back.

Man… that was powerful when I heard it. It shifted something inside me. And it was the first time that I’ve ever let the anger about this come with a force that I haven’t been able to before. Because I realized I was still making excuses for their behavior. I was still thinking I was the problem, that I deserved it. Yes, you read it right. 6 years in and I realized that I was still letting them have complete power over my emotions. Even without seeing or talking to them for 6 fucking years! That made me so angry. At myself, more than anyone else. How could I? And once again… the anger came exclusively at me. To the point that it literally made me sick. My digestive system was a mess for many months on end. I couldn’t ignore the psychosomatic indicators there. I literally couldn’t digest any of those things. So, I had to stop and listen, and feel. And it was bad.

I tried my best to deal with those things, but I just had to take a break. And for a while, I thought I was getting better. I went to do things I loved so I could feel less stressed, exercise, take walks in nature, those kinds of things. Then I started making music again. I had many new interesting ideas that I wanted to test and, then, finally had another project on my mind. A new EP. Based on five characters I’d create. Then I listened to my inner self and I realized it needed to be based on five of the characters I’d already found inside myself. That would be a way to connect to those parts of myself and listen to them. It was all exciting and beautiful. And I was so happy that I was finally going back to creating songs that I felt intimately connected to.

However… (insert Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic” here) “life has a funny way of sneaking upon you when you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right…” And while I was trying to write those songs (which initially, for some reason I wasn’t quite getting at the time, wasn’t working), these angry and hurtful lyrics started coming out of me. At first, I didn’t know what to do with them, because it wasn’t really the focus of my project. Then, I just followed where they’d lead because I thought it might be one of the characters trying to talk to me (I’ve been through that before when I’d write my screenplays). However, the lyrics seemed to have a specific target in mind that I didn’t really want to address in this project. So, I kept trying to avoid it, thinking to myself that I was trying to sabotage my work, because I didn’t want to talk about that person anymore. Enough was enough. And yet… my inner self didn’t want to bury it underneath anymore. It practically forced me to listen.

So I did.

And “Gaslighter (Death is the Mother of Beauty)”, the first single that I’m gonna release exclusively on Bandcamp on August 29th, came to be. This was the first song that came to me during that time and the one that made me realize I had to put this other project on the shelf for now, because I needed to deal with this shit first. I needed to heal from this before I could talk directly to my inner self through those characters. I couldn’t get in with all that anger buildup inside me. I get it now. It wouldn’t be fair to myself. I’ve already abused my inner child enough for a lifetime. I couldn’t keep doing it.

So this is me trying to make amends to my inner child. This story needs to be told. And the best way I know how to do is through sound and words. I was afraid for so long. To share this and be vulnerable, and be out there for criticism and judgment, but most of all, I was afraid to face my old self. The one who’ve let those people walk all over me and did nothing to stop them. I didn’t wanna see her. I didn’t want to acknowledge her. And that was the cruelest part of all this. I realized I can’t do this. She’s part of me and she needs to be forgiven and embraced.

To forgive ourselves for all the things we weren’t prepared or strong enough to stop when it was happening, and have empathy for ourselves. It starts with us. We can’t understand others when we keep shunning our own selves.

That was the hardest lesson to learn.

It still is.

Since I’ve recorded that YouTube video, I’ve been watching many people talk about this topic. From psychologists, therapists, life coaches to random every day people just bearing their hearts on the Internet. And what I have to say is… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry if you’re one of them. But if you are, feel free to share your story here with me and others. I truly believe we heal faster when we heal together.

Thank you so much for being here and for caring.

I’ll see you in the next chapter.

But firstly, hi I’m Raven, a musician and artist from Brazil, and this is Ravings of a Raven, a podcast about creativity, music, and art in general. In this episode 11, I’m gonna talk about lyric writing and how to get better at it by being vulnerable and analysing the greats. Just a shout out if you’re interested in my music, I’ll be releasing the first single of my next EP next month. The single is called Gaslighter, and it has everything to do with this episode, since I’ve been using these tips to help me write the lyrics to the songs on this EP. And this one is one of my favorite lyrics out of those. Anyway, be sure to check it out, the link is in the description!

So, the examples I bring you here are from Ben Folds and Something Corporate. I’m not a fan of any of those artists, meaning, I don’t follow them or what they’re doing, not that I don’t like their music or anything like that. I was just not aware of their music before I stumbled onto those songs. The first one is Wandering, by Ben Folds. I came across that song in a newsletter about songwriting. The teacher was talking about how that song would evoke specific feelings and how well the lyrics were crafted. He was giving the example so that we could also do the same to ours. But when he showed some of the lyrics, I instantly wanted to listen to the song. The lyrics themselves resonated so much with me that I just NEEDED to listen to that song. And so I did, hoping that it wouldn’t be one of those cases that the lyrics are incredible, but the song is just meh. But I couldn’t be MORE wrong. And I’m so grateful for that. Wandering is a beautiful song from beginning to end, and the lyrics are about heartbreak and letting go. All of us have been there and done that, right? His so specific about his lyrics in this song, but what kills me is the last verse. I’ll read it to you. (Just by talking about it, even before I read these, I’m already getting emotional). Anyway, here it is:

Oooo… that last sentence. I can cry just reading it. It’s brutal and it’s honest and it’s heartbreaking. And it makes such an impact before of the lyrics right before that. It’s a punchline and one hell of a punchline. What a great song. Please, go listen to it if you haven’t yet.

Ben Folds - Wandering

So, the second one is Konstantine by Something Corporate and it’s a beautiful 9 and a half minute song. Yeah, you heard it right. That’s how good its lyrics are because I don’t listen to Something Corporate or had I ever heard from them before someone posted about it on a Livejournal group I was in (yeah, remember Livejournal? Hahaha). That group was all about sharing songs about a certain theme of the week. And everyone would pitch in. Oh how I miss those days. I’ve discovered so many great songs and good music through that group. I really miss it. Anyway, I don’t remember the exact theme that we were on that week, but someone posted Konstantine there, really selling the song beautifully because I remember that I instantly clicked on it to listen to. The person had already summed the lyrics up and said it was supposed to be about the singer’s ex girlfriend. So, it’s a really personal and moving song about heartbreak and longing. I’ve just read that the song originally would be four or five minutes, but when they played it for the first time live, his ex girlfriend was there so he ended up singing everything he had written, instead of just the chosen parts they had rehearsed. If you listen to the first recording of this song, it’s even more emotional than the one who was re-recorded and released in later years. In any case, it’s a heartbreaking lovestory that you want to hear until the end. And it captures everything the singer wanted to express about that relationship, which happened when he was still in high school. So, it’s all there, the naivite, the confusion, the longing, the intensity, the sadness. It’s a beautiful song and a favorite among their fans, rightfully so.

One of the many verses that I mostly enjoy is this:

I love this song so much. It’s a dead on confession directly at the person he’s referring to. Much like a love letter. And it’s one of my all time faves ever and I never get tired of it specifically because of the lyrics, since the music serves a lot like a basis for the lyrics to shine. And it works so well! And once again, if you haven’t listened to it yet, I promise it’s worth all these 9 and a half minute.

Something Corporate - Konstantine

So, as you can see, emotional resonance in songwriting is essentially the ability of a song to evoke a strong emotional response in the listener. It's about creating a connection that goes beyond just hearing the music, and instead, feeling it.

Its core concept is evoking emotion, so it’s when a song successfully triggers feelings in the listener, whether it's joy, sadness, nostalgia, or any other emotion.

While lyrics play a significant role, emotional resonance is when a combination of elements come together in a song. For example, it means that the rise and fall of the melody convey different emotions; and the tempo and groove of the rhythm will influence how you feel as you’re listening to that song; as well as the chords and harmonies used will create a sense of tension and release without you even noticing it. All that coupled with the vocal delivery of the artist, using tone and emotion to move you through the story of the lyrics, as well as the overall production, the overall sound and arrangement of said song.

But why would we want this emotional resonance in the first place and, what do you think makes a song truly touch our hearts?

Well, the short answer is… to connect with the listeners, and I dare say, vulnerability is the key. By creating songs that resonate emotionally, we can deepen the connection to the listeners, making them feel understood and validated in their own emotions. Also, when songwriters express genuine emotions through their lyrics and music, they create a sense of authenticity that resonates with listeners. People connect with vulnerability and honesty.

Speaking through the listener’s point of view, emotional resonance can transform a passive listening experience into an active and engaging one. They become emotionally invested in the song and tend to pay more attention to your music and you as an artist that has a voice. By doing that, your songs that evoke strong emotions will likely be remembered and cherished by the listeners, as they become part of their personal soundtracks. Just like Wandering and Konstantine became part of mine.

Summing it up, emotional resonance is the heart of effective songwriting. It's what transforms a song into a meaningful and impactful experience.

So I’ve decided to bring this topic to the podcast because that’s what I’m always trying to achieve, but not always do. And it’s a little bit frustrating, and yet, when I go deep into song analysis and lyric writing, I always have the greatest of times. Because it makes me more creative, it sparks something inside, like I’ve said a few times before on this podcast. Doing things that we don’t really think we know how to do is challenging, BUT also exciting, if you’re in the right mood. And learning how to write just the right stuff to make it more vulnerable and emotional is always a nice goal to have. The few times I got to do it, I immediately saw the difference. People would come to me to say how they were moved by the song or how they would singalong in the shower because the melody was stuck in their heads in a nice way. Or how they connected intensely with specific parts of the lyrics. All these moments were amazing and I’ll cherish them forever. It makes me feel that I’m doing something right, even though it doesn’t happen every time. *laughs*

So, as I’m constantly studying this, one thing that is common for me to run into is the importance of identifying your target audience so you can relate to their emotions and experiences. As for me, specifically, I just stop and think of a random character that I’d wish would enjoy my songs and listening to them so much as to become a true fan. I think it’s easier like that. Anyone can do this experience. So, if you’re in doubt, create your perfect fan right now. Just do it. It’s easy and it’s free.

Next, as I’ve already mentioned before, it’s good to analyse songs that make YOU feel a deep connection to the singer or the musician. For example, *introduce my own examples here and what those emotions that they convey are* So, this is another fun way of learning. Make a playlist of your favorite songs that you connect to the most, that make you really touched and emotional and then analyse each one of them. What makes you connect so intensely to that song? Is it the lyrics? Is it the music? Is it both? Is it the rhythm? Start writing everything down so you can use it later when you’re writing your own songs.

And lastly, if you have your character, your perfect fan already in mind, now think about their emotional landscape. What do they like, what don’t they like? What do they despise, what do they love? What experiences might be normal for them, and what experiences might not be usual for them? Build your character, give life to them. Make them a real person in your mind. As soon as you do, you’ll be able to understand how to craft lyrics and melodies that resonate deeply with them. But I dare say, try to marry that with what you really want to say. With who you really are. Not just a made up persona. People feel that. Even though they can enjoy songs written by personas, it’s way more powerful when it’s the real thing. So the goal here is to balance both.

So, ok, when you’re done analysing songs and characters, next phase is to craft the lyrics.

For that, it’s important to emphasise the use of evocative imagery and vivid language to paint emotional pictures in the listener’s minds. For example, refrain from using too many abstract words and focus on using more concrete words, words that naturally call for an image in your mind. Example, instead of using the simple phrase “you made me feel bad”, try to convey that in a more descriptive and imaginative way, like.. “the moment you moved your hand away from mine, my heart was silenced”. In this phrase, I practically said the same thing, but now with way more and specific details that pull you into a heartbreaking scene. “You made me feel bad” is too generic for that. Everyone feels bad in their lives, but WHY? That’s the question. What exactly did that person do to you that made you feel bad? You can always use metaphors, similes, and personification to enhance the emotional impact of your lyrics. Although you don’t need to get too personal if you don’t want to, be aware that the more personal and vulnerable you get, the more chances you have to connect with your listeners.

That happens because relatable storytelling and personal experiences create a strong emotional connection between people. Firstly because vulnerability builds trust. Research professor and author Dr. Brené Brown argues that vulnerability is at the very root of social connection, saying that “In order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen—really seen.” So yeah, I know, it’s scary. I think so too, but I think it’s worth it. And remember what David Lynch once said, “you don’t need to be sad to write a sad song, you just need to know the feeling of sadness to convey it”. That’s a motto I bring with me since the first time I heard him saying that. This is really important.

And if you’re wondering about if your experiences will be too personal and specific for anyone to connect to, I think what David Lynch’s words can also be applied here.

Even though they’re specific and unique to you, everyone knows the feelings of hurt, loss, love, hope, fear, etc. They won’t be connecting to your story specifically, but to the overall feelings that you’re conveying and that they’re connecting to. They will RELATE to you. Even though they hadn’t been through the exact thing you have. Because relatable stories make listeners feel understood. They find solace in knowing they’re not alone in their feelings. This creates a powerful sense of empathy.

But… all I’ve been talking about till here is just between you, the artist, and the individual listener. Beyond that, there’s even more incredible goals to achieve. For example, we can create a shared emotional space where listeners can connect with each other along with the artist, through those songs and stories. And this, eventually, will bring you more fans of your work and of you as an artist.

So, why don’t you start writing down some topics that you might want to write about and start to choose some of them for your next lyrics? Don’t think about the listener at this stage, only in what you’re trying to express, what you’re trying to say. The focus is you now. The artist is you. I, myself, now like to start by writing everything down that comes to my mind all at once. Then, I take a couple of days off from writing those lyrics, and then I come back to read them. I go through them and save the parts I find interesting and that I want to use and throw away the rest. Then, I start to work on the lyrics like I’ve mentioned here in this episode. How about you? Tell me all about your process of lyric writing in the comments below! I’m really interested to know. I will reply to every one of your comments.

Once again, thank you for being here, reading the enhanced transcript of this episode of the Ravings of a Raven podcast. Thank you for reading up until the end. I appreciate each and every one of you. Just reminding you to leave a like if you enjoyed this conversation and the tips I gave you in this episode. I hope that you have a great time writing your next lyrics!

Don’t forget to subscribe to my channel if you want to listen to the next episodes of this podcast, as well as enjoy the other videos I’m posting every week. And if you’re still not subscribed to my Substack newsletter, do it now! You’ll get the transcriptions of future episodes starting from this one, as well as news about me and my work, writings, snippets of new songs, my drawings, paintings, and/or anything that I feel like sharing with the ones who are subscribed to the newsletter. Anyway, thank you once again! See you!

Firstly, this newsletter is going to be in English, but if you want to read it in Portuguese, go here.

Anyway, hello! This is new to me. I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve written like this. I used to love blogging back in the day and I feel like I’m a little rusty, but maybe it’s like riding a bike and soon I’ll be feeling less self-conscious about this.

Well, in case you don’t know how you’ve ended up here, I’m Raven Lunis. I like to call myself a musician, but in fact, I’m many things and nothing at the same time. I like to see myself as a creative and curious person, who’s been very much in love with music since I was a baby, literally. However, in more recent years, I’ve been feeling that putting myself in the restrictive box of musicianship was killing my creativity and I decided to delve back into other artistic and creative things I used to love when I was younger, like drawing, taking pictures, making videos, painting, and now.. I’m back to my originally chosen form of art, writing.

Writing used to be my outlet for many unhappy, traumatic and intense moments I’ve been through in the past. It used to come naturally, but only years later I realized how it also saved me from a more tragic future. (I used to only credit Music for that). Since I didn’t really have people that I could talk to about my issues, my notebooks became my first confidants and best friends. Later on, I started writing lyrics to songs I yet had to compose. And finally, I started writing poems. But it’s been a loooooong while since I’ve written one. I miss it. Maybe I’ll be inspired to go back to writing poetry someday.

Regardless, I’ve been making music for many years now (as a serious project, for about 25 years; and as a professional, for about 15 in total) and it is still my main passion. And now I’ve decided to create this Substack to talk directly to you, who’s not only interested in my music, but also in my other artistic endeavors.

I hope you find this place comforting enough to stay. You are welcome to say hi or drop me a line in the comments. I want this to be a place that we can chat about music, art, creativity and other interesting topics related to those.

Lastly, I want to thank you for deciding to stay and for reading these newsletters as I send them to you. You’re awesome and I’m grateful and pleased to have you here, in this corner of the Internet. I’ll try to send one a month, at least, but I may change this in the near future as my time frees up. Stay tuned and welcome to The Realm of Soft Delusions!

[If you’ve arrived here through my YouTube Channel, maybe you don’t know that I have an official Bandcamp page, where all of my released songs (+ bonus ones) live. If you want to listen to all of them, go here. Most of them is also in other streaming platforms, if you’d prefer listening over there.]

Versão em Português

1a newsletter

Olá, galera! Sejam bem-vindos a essa minha primeira newsletter!

Isso aqui é novo para mim. Já faz muito tempo que não escrevo assim. Antigamente, eu tinha vários blogs e adorava escrever aleatoriamente por lá, mas agora eu sinto que estou meio enferrujada. Só que talvez isso seja como andar de bicicleta e logo logo eu me sinta menos constrangida de escrever aleatoriedades como antigamente. Hahaha

Bom, caso você não saiba como veio parar aqui, eu sou Raven Lunis. Gosto da designação “musicista”, mas na verdade sou muita coisa e nada ao mesmo tempo. Me considero uma pessoa criativa e curiosa, apaixonada por música e canto desde bebê, literalmente. Só que nos últimos anos, tenho sentido que me ater à caixa restritiva da musicalidade está matando a minha criatividade, então eu decidi mergulhar mais profundamente em outras formas artísticas, que costumava curtir bastante quando eu era um feto. Coisas como desenhar, fotografar, filmar, pintar e, neste momento, também de volta à minha forma de arte originalmente escolhida para me expressar: a escrita.

O ato de escrever costumava ser a minha válvula de escape para muitos momentos infelizes, traumáticos e intensos do passado. Eu costumava fazer isso naturalmente, mas só anos depois percebi como a escrita também me salvou de um futuro muito mais trágico (eu costumava dar crédito apenas à música por isso). Como não tinha pessoas com quem pudesse conversar sobre meus problemas, os meus cadernos rapidamente se tornaram meus primeiros confidentes e meus melhores amigos. Mais tarde, comecei a escrever letras de músicas que ainda sonhava um dia compor. Até que finalmente comecei a escrever poemas. Mas isso já faz muuuuito tempo. Só que de vez em quando eu sinto falta. Talvez algum dia a inspiração volte e eu decida fazer poesia novamente.

Independentemente disso, eu faço música há muitos anos (como um projeto sério, há cerca de 25 anos; e como profissional, há cerca de 15, no total) e a música ainda é o meu amor maior. Portanto agora decidi criar esse Substack para falar diretamente com você que se interessou não apenas pela minha música, mas também pelos meus outros projetos artísticos e criativos.

Espero que você ache este lugar interessante e legal o suficiente para ficar. Sinta-se à vontade para dizer oi ou me deixar uma mensagem nos comentários. Quero que este seja um lugar onde possamos conversar sobre música, arte, criatividade e outros temas interessantes relacionados a isso.

Finalmente, quero agradecer a você que decidiu seguir por aqui e ler estas newsletters que continuarei enviando. Você é incrível! Fico grata e muito feliz de ter você aqui, neste canto da Internet. Tentarei enviar uma por mês, pelo menos, mas posso mudar de ideia num futuro próximo, conforme tiver tempo. Siga acompanhando a newsletter e boas vindas à The Realm of Soft Delusions!

[Se você chegou aqui pelo meu canal no YouTube, talvez não saiba que tenho uma página oficial no Bandcamp, onde ficam todas as minhas músicas já lançadas (+ músicas bônus). Se você quiser ouvir todas elas, clique aqui. A maioria delas também está em outras plataformas de streaming, se você preferir ouvir por lá.]