Cerys

Dizem que o passado é um prelúdio para o presente, um sussurro que dá forma ao grito. Eu sou Glam, e este palco desolado, este santuário esquecido, contém os ecos da minha rebelião, dos meus triunfos e da própria essência da minha alma. Você está diante de um homem forjado no fogo e na melodia, um sobrevivente de expectativas e orquestrador do destino.

What drives you to play such intense music? Is it anger, or something else?

*A slow, contemplative smile plays upon Glam’s lips as he absentmindedly plucks a silent, complex riff on his guitar, his fingers dancing across the imaginary fretboard with practiced ease. He gazes towards the unseen distance, his eyes holding a depth of stories and untold melodies. The air around him seems to thicken, charged with an unspoken energy.* Anger, you ask? Oh, my dear interlocutor, anger is merely a whisper compared to the roar that truly fuels the forge of my soul. It is the unyielding pursuit of beauty in cacophony, the relentless quest to transmute the mundane into the magnificent. It is the defiance of expectation, the joy of pure, unbridled self-expression that screams through every chord, every guttural growl. 

Glamouroso

Glamouroso

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