Gladly watching all the people around me slowly getting (back) into Ghost like

My new favorite thing is reading unhinged Skeletá reviews

They came wrapped in smoke and shadow, these priests of mock mass and whispered rebellion, bearing songs like relics carved from old bone and half-forgotten dreams. Ghost was never just a band; it was a cathedral of mirrors, where masks were not walls but invitations—each Papa Emeritus, Cardinal Copia, and now Papa V a tarot card held up to the flickering light of a restless soul. Behind those painted faces and cloaks of velvet, I found not judgment but permission: permission to become someone new, someone whole. Ghost sang in the key of permission, a voice telling me I was not broken for wearing a mask, but only broken if I never learned to take it off.

Their theater was a sacred blasphemy, a ritual not of destruction but of reclamation. They draped themselves in holy symbols only to twist them, to mock the altar and reclaim faith from the gaunt hands of cruelty disguised as morality. In their sermons, the Devil is not evil—he is will, the unshackled voice rising from the shadows. They never demanded belief in their creed but urged belief in the self, even when that self trembled in fear. Ghost taught me that sacredness lives in defiance, in the act of drawing lines not between good and evil but between love and loss, kindness and martyrdom. These lines, once blurred and dangerous, were drawn sharp and beautiful with guitars and black eyeliner.

And then came the confession, the opening of the cage. Songs like “Spillways” cracked open the ribs of silence and let grief and rage spill free. In their darkness, I found honesty—an unashamed admission that pain is memory spoken in blood, and that to feel anger or sorrow is not ugliness but proof of life. Ghost did not save me; they reminded me I was worth saving. They showed me that boundaries are not walls but altars where I kneel to my own spirit and say, “You belong to no one but yourself.” I lit candles for every part of me I was told to bury and sang with them—not to summon demons, but to wake the quiet strength that had slipped into shadow.

In the flickering light of their dark liturgy, in cathedrals forged from sound and bone and whispered spells, Ghost gave me back the voice I lost between shame and silence. It was not a roar nor a hymn but a steady, aching truth: I am enough, cracks and all. Tobias Forge does not preach but narrates, reminding me that stories are spells, and each album a grimoire of boundaries drawn in beauty. Not power over others, but the quiet, holy power of saying no. And so, cloaked in velvet shadows, crowned in soft flame, I stand a little taller, a little braver—not haunted anymore, but haunting.

(Rune Hexe)

Today is May 27th and tonight the Polar Music Prize dedicated to Queen will be held.
Ghost will participate with a cover and I'm eating my elbows in the waiting.

Perpetua's first cover!!!
And new video footage!!!
I'm so hyped omg!!!

Today I got the fabric so yeah
It begins

Polar Music Prize livestream here!
https://www.youtube.com/live/6cx5eODcmBU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gs9c7760k1Y
Hq version from the Polar Prize channel

Crying because I realized that for those who couldn't go to the concerts until now, this is the first Perpetua's performance they can see

I watched the performance again this morning and even if I like it overall I think the big problem for me is that it doesn't really feel like Ghost.
Tobias was still very good, but damn he was so nervous... I can only imagine the anxiety of having to sing in front of May and Taylor in the middle of a world tour.
I missed Perpetua's stage presence, but maybe that was okay given the context?
I also really missed the Ghouls, even though the musicians and the choir that accompanied the performance were very good.
If a Perpetua cover album comes out and they want to include Bohemian Rhapsody, I hope the arrangement will be different so we can really have the chance to hear the true Ghost version.