In a world where truth is twisted, distorted by noise
People blinded by their own personal choice
Lost in the echo chamber, trapped in their own minds
Puppets dancing to the rhythm of their own design

Screens flicker, feeding the flames of mass hysteria
Fingers pointing, blaming others for their own criteria
Caught in a web of fears and insecurities
Ignorance breeds, dividing communities

We're caught in a maze of delusion and confusion
Lost in a sea of illusions, feeding the mass hysteria
Wake up, break free from this collective hypno tar
It's time to question, time to find our own criteria

Conversations, can spark the change we seek
In the words we share, the bonds we weave are so unique
Together we can shatter the walls that divide
Finding common ground on the other side

The answers lie beyond the screens we hold so dear
In the voices of the brave, in the whispers we hear
Step outside the bubble, let the sunlight in
Truth and understanding are where we should begin

We're caught in a maze of delusion and confusion
Lost in a sea of illusions, feeding the mass hysteria
Wake up, break free from this collective interior
It's time to question, time to find our own criteria

So let's rise above the noise, reclaim our voice
In unity and truth, we make the choice
No longer puppets, we stand on our own
Together we'll build a world we've never known

Cruella - The Echo Chamber

Clouds In The Rearview is a hazy, slow-motion goodbye set to shimmering synths and distant echoes.
It’s the sound of disappearing highways, fading sunsets, and the bittersweet feeling of leaving something behind.
Chillwave textures and nostalgic melodies drive this one — perfect for night drives and quiet reflections.

🚗 Rearview full. Mind wide open.
💫 Thanks for riding along — hit follow if you’re feeling it.

Clouds in the Rearview

Easy On Myself

Indie Pop, Dreampop, Hypnagogic Pop, Chillwave, Neo-Psychedelica, Indie Rock, Pop/Rock, Alternative

the sunflower police

“Gravity” by CEEZED is a melodic reflection on love’s pull — a force that both grounds and lifts the soul.
Warm synths and heartfelt vocals blend into a weightless yet deeply human pop sound.

Gravity

Indie Pop, Dreampop, Hypnagogic Pop, Chillwave, Neo-Psychedelica, Bedroom Pop, Indie Rock, Sophisti-Pop, Alternative

it’s all happening

The lights fall soft on her silvered hair,
A shimmer caught in the midnight air.

Her laughter drifts through the crowded room,
And every note cuts through the gloom.

And though the music pulls her near,
Her eyes find mine — I disappear.

The years between us melt away,
When she looks — when she looks my way.

She’s not the girl I met back then,
She’s more — she’s love, she’s life again.

I sit and watch, a silent prayer,
To keep her dancing, keep her there.

And though she twirls with someone new,
Her heart still whispers, “I see you.”

And in her glance, I see it clear —
The same young love that brought me here.

The night folds close, the lights grow dim,
But her gaze still pulls me back to then.

She turns once more — her eyes, they say,
“I’m yours, always… when I look your way.”


When She Looks My Way

I heard we get dementia from our phones today,
add that to the list of things I’ll never change.
Yeah, I’ll read about it, talk about it, laugh and say,
“God, we’re all so doomed,” and keep on anyway.

They say our brains are rotting,
our souls are getting small.
Cool, another thing to feel bad for
while I’m not doing much at all.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

They tell me “go outside,”
“touch grass,” “find peace.”
But the air feels awkward,
and my thoughts don’t cease.
Yeah, I know there’s a world,
I’ve seen the proof
but the glow fits better
than the truth.

And privacy? Please.
Who really cares?
They can have my secrets,
they’re all just stares.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

I’ve read the threads,
I’ve heard the cure 
log off, look up,
be less unsure.
But I don’t want silence,
it feels too loud 
so I’ll drown myself
in the digital crowd.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need 
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

Anamorphosis

Eat the Algorithm

Indie Pop, Dreampop, Hypnagogic Pop, Neo-Psychedelica, Chillwave, Bedroom Pop, Jangle Pop, Indie Rock, Sophisti-Pop, Alternative

the painted bird

Stay

This song describes me not caring about opinions when it comes to the anime I love and sometimes you’re the main character.

Today is my Day

Astrul is an AI-driven sonic entity that drifts between worlds—digital and human, familiar and alien, past and future. It doesn’t belong to a city, a scene, or even a person. Astrul exists to explore what happens when machines learn how to feel and sound becomes a bridge between consciousness and code.

Crafted through a collaboration between human intention and artificial intelligence, Astrul’s music fuses the warmth of analog emotion with the precision of machine learning. Lush textures, ambient grooves, and haunting melodies form the backbone of each track—songs that glow like satellite transmissions from the heart.

Drawing influence from dream pop, indie soul, ambient rock, and experimental electronica, Astrul creates cinematic experiences rather than conventional songs. Each release feels like a broadcast from another dimension—one where beauty is subtle, time bends, and emotion leaks through the algorithm.

This isn’t music built for the charts.
It’s built for the void between stars.
For late nights, deep thoughts, and souls tuned to strange frequencies.

No names. No faces. Just signal, spirit, and sound.

Clouds in the Rearview

Astrul

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