01/26/2024
Ergreifend
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Ergreifend
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Blood moon
Imagine standing naked, as God created you, in the deepest forest.
In absolute darkness. Only the moon hangs there. It hangs low, almost touching the earth. Soaked in blood-red paint, as if someone had gently picked it from the canvas with their fingertips and let it slide gently into the paint pot.
Mother Earth tingles under your feet. Moss tickles your feet.
The green rises through your mind and soul. As if the smell is taking root through your body.
The wind whips gently through the trees, making leaves dance.
Resin drips softly from the dark sky, onto the warm and damp body, driving sweat from every pore.
Steam rises from your head, mixing with the cold air, literally swallowing up the scenery.
Then silence. Loneliness. You literally breathe in nature. Resin seals your bloodstream. It literally rushes in your ears, as if an ice-cold river is running through your thoughts. Paper rustles in your subconscious. It is old, worn paper. The earth gently kisses your feet again. It's green everywhere, so green.
You gaze up at the blood moon, soaking up the deep red in your eyes, letting your senses pause for a moment. Red not only signals warmth and well-being, it also makes you more alert.
It fits so beautifully. A bloody moon that exposes the intimate moments of a person connecting with the earth. Going into himself. Green, earthy accents are everywhere. Stuffing all corners and edges. Combined with steam and an extremely rich note of resin. Thick. Pure. Silky and shiny.
This is how Brokilän smells to me. Like this and nothing else! A really interesting mixture, but one that I would never take out into the world. It is only intended for your own solitary trip into the forest. The durability and also the sillage are clearly tame, almost unrealistic for this kind of fragrance. An intimate nature companion that is pale and illuminated by the blood moon.
In absolute darkness. Only the moon hangs there. It hangs low, almost touching the earth. Soaked in blood-red paint, as if someone had gently picked it from the canvas with their fingertips and let it slide gently into the paint pot.
Mother Earth tingles under your feet. Moss tickles your feet.
The green rises through your mind and soul. As if the smell is taking root through your body.
The wind whips gently through the trees, making leaves dance.
Resin drips softly from the dark sky, onto the warm and damp body, driving sweat from every pore.
Steam rises from your head, mixing with the cold air, literally swallowing up the scenery.
Then silence. Loneliness. You literally breathe in nature. Resin seals your bloodstream. It literally rushes in your ears, as if an ice-cold river is running through your thoughts. Paper rustles in your subconscious. It is old, worn paper. The earth gently kisses your feet again. It's green everywhere, so green.
You gaze up at the blood moon, soaking up the deep red in your eyes, letting your senses pause for a moment. Red not only signals warmth and well-being, it also makes you more alert.
It fits so beautifully. A bloody moon that exposes the intimate moments of a person connecting with the earth. Going into himself. Green, earthy accents are everywhere. Stuffing all corners and edges. Combined with steam and an extremely rich note of resin. Thick. Pure. Silky and shiny.
This is how Brokilän smells to me. Like this and nothing else! A really interesting mixture, but one that I would never take out into the world. It is only intended for your own solitary trip into the forest. The durability and also the sillage are clearly tame, almost unrealistic for this kind of fragrance. An intimate nature companion that is pale and illuminated by the blood moon.
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