Le Labo meme

Because, you don’t respect therapy. Because, You're a scientist. Because, you invent, transform, create and destroy for a living. And when you don’t like something about the world, you change it. And you don’t think going to a rented office in a strip mall to listen to some agent of averageness explain which words mean which feelings has ever helped anyone do anything. You think it’s helped a lot of people get comfortable and stop panicking, which is a state of mind you value in the animals you eat, but it’s not something you want for yourself. You're not a cow. You're a pickle. When you feel like it. Santal 33 by Le Labo.

You're a rotting tree. When you were alive, you spent a few hundred years enjoying a peaceful and sumptuously windy existence. You would even boast to the other trees, because your leaves and branches were always plentiful, because wildlife from all over called you their home, because lovers even carved their names in your sides. Everything was perfect until insects found you and bored into you and began tearing you apart from inside. You loosened, and you crumbled, and your whole trunk broke off and fell to the ground. Do you remember watching it erode over time while you were left as a helpless, rotting stump? Currently, your existence is not a pretty one. Every day, you're plagued by incurable necrosis. Every day, you're sprayed with urine by all kinds of animals as they mark their territory. Every day, you're sent rose petals by the wind, as if it, too, mourned your death. Congratulations, tree. You have become the headstone to your own, sorry grave. Oud 27 by Le Labo.

You're a product consultant and you've just stepped foot into a niche slaughterhouse to critique some liquid smoke products while you try them on some fresh pork. The place is pretty grim and you can hear squealing off in the distance, but you're pretty hyped to taste the bacon. For some reason, though, instead of participating in any taste tests, you're taken down to a grimy, morgue-like dungeon area, where a foul-smelling, ashy cremation of some diseased pigs is going on, bones and all. You didn't ask to be made an involuntary guest on a new exposé helmed by PETA, but here you are. Patchouli 24 by Le Labo.