Written in the depths of depression, this spoken word poetry leans into the thought process and nihilistic musings of a self-aware yet naive philosopher.
A path out is possible but no one path is the same. 
Positive mental health is radical resistance!

Stark Mess of Darkness

cover of bright eyes' song "false advertising"

false advertising

prod. @jeffkaale

My exes? No, I don’t think about them
I shrink around them
I go to see my shrink about them
On desperate nights sometimes I’m liking every picture on their LinkedIn albums, 
just in case they’re single,
I send winky symbols, I just hint it at ‘em,
I’m not thirsty, I’m just counting fingers at the drinking fountain,
I feel like I’m drowning when I introduce myself to crowds: 
like hi, hello, I dig your sense of style, 
I saw your face across the room and grinned a while,
I wonder, are you into smiles? I pinned a pile of polaroids up on my wall, 
I wish you’d be in one,  a ring or child or wedding hall or aisle, you’d wouldn’t see in them, 
I must profess I self-profess myself a cinephile,
I’ve got every single indie title soundtrack out on indie vinyl
I’ve got some on USB, just tell me where to send the files,
if you think this is dragging on, then you should read my tinder bio,

I used to go to central park in cargo pants and whittle bark off little trees 
like Leonardo to my heart’s content, with car keys from my 97’ Civic on a bench,
I’d grab my metro card and clutch a cup of chocolate from a vendor cart,
and then depart deep underground and check the clock and metro chart,
and that is where I met her, charcoal fingers, she was sketching art, 
my self-regard leapt twenty notches when she looked at me,
I told her I wished I could etch the world out with my pencil marks,
she held the charcoal out, our fingers touched and crept apart,
and when they lingered, 
lightning struck, I know, I saw electrodes spark,
and when she smiled a hundred volts
her pearly whites were thunderbolts,
the room around us did a couple somersaults,
the earth had shifted off it’s poles,
another jolt went through me when she twirled her necklace
we were so electric, I swear the third rail was getting jealous

she curved a crater on the paper with the conté crayon
every stroke she lay spoke to my spirit like she called a séance
her fingertips could conjure chaos, every splash of color camouflaged 
into the page, I swear that she had lingerie on,
I felt the rumble of the subway tunnel crumble up
she perforated scraps of sketches, gave em’ to me crumpled up, 
and bundled up and waved to me and walked toward the edge 
I mustered up the strength to wave back and then dipped off of the bench
the train tiptoed to the ledge, it’s open doors demanded entry
she got in and whispered to me from inside that it was empty
and my heart, it started drumming, my stomach, it started numbing,
the doors began to slide, 

and then she asked me,
are you coming?


charcoal. // X I X X

if design dictates function, what am i? w/ autumn keys

edit: thank you for all the support

prod. by @yungmai
mixed by @tevinwmusic

you are papyrus to a scribe,
your highness, I’d describe you
as the finest kind of wine that ages so well
it rewinds the time

you aren’t wine,
you are the fibers of the vine, divine, you are defined
in Webster’s as the climate of the Caribbean, 
me and you should burn together like we’re fire and kerosene,
you plundered through my chest and stole my heart, a pirate of the fairer being,
Midas sighed and let his sinuses unwind and golden ether culminated into you, 
the lioness to her pride, I heard you sculpted king poseidons diamond trident at his side,
the surest sign of suicide for me would be that you had died, 
the God of Death, Osiris, Isis and her ibis-headed mask
would guide you down a spiral staircase into Cyprus if you asked,
you are the ripest stalk of Cairo-grown papyrus to this scribe, 
I’ve got no stylus to describe you as the finest kind of wine
that ages so well it rewinds the time, no, you aren’t wine,
you are the Carolina pines, and I’m so sorry that you aren’t mine.

to the girl 3 seats over on the f train.

@tomppabeats

but whatever tho

(also these hats are coming soon)

isn't here (prod. tomppabeats)

self-produced; this one's pretty cute 

guitar recorded on my fender tele 
drums from a few different sample packs

this is a sunny sky, this is a starry night 
this is an afternoon i'll spend inside your arms, held tight 
this is a question mark, this is a final thought 
this is a happy ending snuck into the epilogue 
this is a seperate building, this is the journey there 
this is the scenic route, this is your messy hair 
this is a promise kept, an honored lesson, taught it to you 
through the momunental light alive inside your amour suit, and... 
this is the reason i've been shaking when i speak 
always terribly afraid to make mistakes and make you leave 
it's a shame i'm scared of heights, 'cause when you sweep me off my feet 
i feel the ground beneath me start to sink into the sea 
i can feel the clouds above me coming closer to my touch 
i can almost taste the heavens, but compared to you, it's much 
the same as everything else... another book on a shelf 
it's just too hard to explain, so i'm repeating myself, like... 

this is a broken record, this is a broken record 
this is a broken record, you'll always know me better 
this is a broken record, this is a broken record 
this is a broken record, so i'll be yours forever 

this is the celebration, this is the party hat 
this is the cellophane in which my heart is wrapped 
and i'm peeling it back, 'cause i'm feeling the love 
this is absolute bliss, this can fit like a glove 
this is peace on the earth, this is me, what it's worth 
i'm not a hundred percent sure, but still 
this here, this is a final draft, this is an epitath 
for every negative emotion on a seperate path 
this is the safest feeling ever to be felt 
it's a message in the morning that intends to make you melt 
and honestly, this is my magnum opus, this is a story book 
where all the illustrations have super-friendly sorta look 
a cordial shook hand at an important event 
with stainless steel silverware and a porcelain dish 
it's the weight of the pull inside of a torrent of fish 
a metaphor used precisely to make it more than it is 

this is a broken record, this is a broken record 
this is a broken record, you'll always know me better 
this is a broken record, this is a broken record 
this is a broken record, so i'll be yours forever 

this is a broken record, this is a broken record 
this is a broken record, you'll always know me better 
this is a broken record, this is a broken record 

art by bennie (www.instagram.com/cozylile)

download <3

broken record

se inscreva no canal: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVaPNT91ahZf0DWTJxT-yhQ

Atlas Ft. Autumn Keys - If Design Dictates Function, What Am I

Atlas - isn't here

hey, thanks for 50k <3

lil vocal acting by my homies jake & marcus <3

lyrics:
i think that now i'd call myself a wordsmith
but not because of talent of ability
it's more that i can balance the facilities
of living as a human, while i'm sittin' here decal-ing my sililoquies
and i guess it makes sense, in that regard
i use my brain as a capture card
inhalin' every word i stumble upon
to try to catalog 'em all before the rapture starts

so you can tag along and follow all the wacky antics
like all my stupid problems that relapsing can't fix
"keep your head up out the sand, stop scratching that wrist
before you turn into another anxious ativan kid"
well i guess it's too late... a couple hundred panic states passed
and my broken self ran away fast
feels like i lost my body in a hand grenade blast
with all this absence in my soul, and i can't evade that

so i'm stuck... trapped in a painting of myself
that was made before i changed how i felt
i'm hoping that my other friends can break out and help
but to be honest, it seems like they've greyed out as well
i constantly remember back in high school
sneaking out to kick it with no pay stubs
everything was simpler then, i guess
i only feel free when there's something to escape from

so i'll keep writing songs of longing for the olden
looking to the future for my confidence and boldness
it certainly isn't here, and neither am i
but i think that we've established that enough to decide
that it's time for a change; or, rather, time to revert
'cause we all sorta miss the designs that we were
and maybe nowadays what i write's more diverse
but the patrick years back didn't understand hurt

and that hurts

a wistful remembrance

wordsmith ii (prod. purpan)

Thank you all so much for the overwhelming amount of support, got a fun little track dropping for yall this Friday :)

additional vocals by me

feat. https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa
prod. by https://soundcloud.com/saysooo
art by the lovely @passive155 (on twitter)
mixed by me

Lyrics:

And if every thing we thought correct
Had just got up and left
I wouldn't hesitate to take another step
In your direction
Recollectin memories we share the best ones
And I'd restart at step one for your affection
I'd get to relearn what makes you laugh and smile
And get mad scrunchin your nose and your brows
I don't know how it happened
It's like some men in black shit 
A click then a flash and now we don't know where our past went
Or what our past was
The half kiss and half touch
Some would call it bad luck 
And i ain't even mad because
I get to experience you all for the first time again
And take you on dates so we can talk about the lifes we live
And i can't wait for that first kiss 
I want it to be perfect
Even thinking bout it's making me nervous 
This is all just so surreal
I can't even begin to wait to get to know how you feel

If. .we. .would. .re. .set
I wouldn't mind
I wouldn't mind, i wouldn't mind no
×4

okay, freeze frame argument
we’re sitting on a park bench
our past is running circles through me,
I’m stuck on your arc length,
every evening we spent cheerful hangs
suspended in air
we both agreed that we ain’t working
though, we ended it there
and every sip of morning coffee you made
after i slept over or the way you slipped your 
sweater off your shoulder just to trace me through 
your supernova tattoo on your collarbones
comes floating back in monochrome, 
sheathed in a protective cover 
i’d give anything  to relive me and you in technicolor,
reincarnate months back to the party where I met you
where we dipped and watched the starlit sky then woke up in your bedroom
it’s not a second chance, you see, I want a second play-through
some way where if I fuck up I’d rewind to an escape route
and evade making the wrong choice
program every date with a respawn point
and meander through the multiverse, i’d go whatever distance
till I happen on a parallel dimension that’s not this one

If. .we. .would. .re. .set
I wouldn't mind
I wouldn't mind, i wouldn't mind no
×4

isn't here (prod. tomppabeats)

atlas